Angels With Scabbed Wings
by CSI1983
Summary: A series of unfortunte events takes a young childs life and a Jane Doe bludgeoned to death takes Sara and Grissom to the darker side of being a teenager
1. Chapter 1

_**Angels With Scabbed Wings**_

Chapter One – Genesis

"Was anyone else home when it happened?"

"Just the parents?"

"So no other suspects then?"

"Nope"

Catherine sighed as she followed Brass into the house, giving him a small smile as he opened the door for her. She walked past the weeping parents, ignoring the tug on her heart. She instinctively wanted to sit and talk too them, to sympathize with them, but she had learnt over the years that this was a bad idea. They were the main suspects and nine times out of ten the main suspects always had something to do with the death that preceded her arrival. She gave Warrick a small smile as she entered the nursery, keeping her eyes on his and trying to ignore the tiny body that lay in the crib.

"What do we know about this little one?"

"His name is Emmanuel, nine months old. No visible signs if distress and no disturbance around the body."

"Ok. What kind of vibe did you get from the parents?"

"Distressed, not much else. We might have to wait a little longer before we talk to them."

Catherine nodded before moving closer to the crib. The mother part of her was horrified that someone could do this to an innocent, sweet smelling bundle that babies were. But the scientist in her wanted to know why and how his death had come about. She carefully opened her kit and extracted the fiber collector, running it carefully over the blankets that lay over Emmanuel's tiny body. She wondered briefly why Emmanuel had blankets over him, if he had been checked by his parents as Brass had said. She dismissed the thought just as quickly, most parents, guilty or not, would cover their child, an old age instinct to protect their child. Catherine and Warrick worked silently, side by side working from one corner of the room to the other until everything had been processed. A knock on the door disturbed the steady silence and Catherine turned to see David standing the door way. He gazed over to where little Emmanuel lay, his eyes becoming shiny and sad.

"Worse call in the world to get. A damn shame."

Catherine placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Make him a VIP ok David?"

"Of course. Doc has already said the same thing. He's just waiting for our arrival."

He moved closer to the crib, extracting his thermometer from the same kind of kit that the CSI's carried around with them from case to case. He inserted the thermometer into Emmanuel's liver.

"How long David?"

"No more then three hours."

David turned away from the crib to take out the smallest coroner's bag that Catherine had ever seen, placing Emmanuel carefully inside. When he pulled up the zip, it was the most finalizing sound that Catherine had heard in a long time. He gathered the body close to his chest, the same way one would have if the baby was still alive before exchanging one last look with Catherine before leaving the room. Catherine packed up her kit and with Warrick in tow, headed back downstairs. Brass was standing in front of the still weeping parents, his face solemn as he patiently waited for the tears to ease; something that Catherine was sure was not going to happen anytime soon. Catherine took a box of tissues that she spotted on one of the corner table, kneeling in front of them, offering the box to them.

"I'm Catherine Willows."

The woman nodded, blowing her nose loudly.

"I'm Savannah and this is my husband Jack."

"My colleagues and I are here to find out what happens to Emmanuel."

"Ok. What do you need to know?"

"Did you hear anything?"

"Like what?"

"Someone walking around upstairs maybe? A window opening, anything to indicate that someone was breaking in?"

Savannah Thomas gave Catherine an ironic smile.

"This house is old Miss Willows. It settles all the time, makes odd noises."

Catherine sighed under her breath, deciding to try another tact.

"What were you and your husband doing before you went and checked on Emmanuel?"

"We were eating lunch. We did nothing out of the ordinary. I put Emmanuel to bed at twelve and went up at two. He was so still."

Savannah burst into fresh tears and her husband pulled her into his chest, flashing Catherine a hard look, as if she was the source of their pain.

"Why are you still here? Someone killed our son you should be looking for them."

"Mr. Thomas, you seem like a logical person, surely you know it's not completely ridiculous for us to examine you first and foremost."

"And you have. Now go and find the bastard that did this to us."

Catherine stood, handing the tissues to Jack Thomas, her voice hard as she spoke.

"Our job is to follow the evidence Mr. Thomas and if the it leads to you, then it's you we'll be looking at."

She turned on her heel before he could say comment, her thoughts back to where they were meant to be; on finding Emmanuel's killer. She waited for Brass against his squad car, mentally processing what little evidence that they had gathered in the house. She didn't think that they would get much from it but you could do nothing more then hold your breath and cross your fingers. They had to rely on baby Emmanuel to supply what they were missing.

"What can I do for you Cath?"

"Who said I wanted anything?"

"I've known you to long, I know that look."

Brass gave her a tight smile, waiting for Catherine to indulge him and tell him what she wanted.

"I need a full back ground check on both the parents. Anything after they were born is fine."

"I know how to do a back ground check Catherine."

"I know Jim. I just need to close this case."

Brass nodded as he hopped into his car.

"It's the parent thing isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

She gave him a small smile and a quick wave as he drove off before turning back to the house. What happened in Emmanuel's home? What drove someone to take such an innocent life?

* * *

The Jane Doe had been delivered to Doc and Sara was busy pouring over the photos that had been taken at the scene. She had been found in a small, narrow patch of scrub, her head beaten in. There was nothing there to help them to ID her and so she sat unclaimed in Doc's room, waiting for someone to recognize who she once was. While she waited for Doc's page, she went over the photos that she had just developed, making sure that they had missed nothing. There wasn't much to see beyond the bloodied face and twisted body. There was no way that they could take these pictures to the public, they would have to wait until Doc had cleaned the body and gave them something else in regards to the body and who she was. Hopefully, she will have some sort of scaring that they could run with. Until then, she could do nothing more then wait for a page to tell her that the results were in. She gazed at the photos, wondering, not for the first time, what kind of anger would possess a person to crush a skull.

* * *

Brass had the file with the entire history of the Thomas's life together within two hours of Catherine's request. He also brought her and Warrick each a coffee and a bag of fresh, still hot bagels. Catherine gave him a wide smile when she pied the file that was tucked neatly under his arm.

"I should get you to do background checks more often."

Brass chuckled lightly as he settled himself across from her grabbing a bagel and his own coffee from the tray.

"Figured that you needed some sort of boost after that crime scene. It's a parent thing, remember?"

Catherine gave him another smile before separating the father's file into three sections, handing each of the men a piece of it, along with a highlighter. For the next hour the only sound was that of the highlighters striking through relevant information. Within three hours, they had completed both backgrounds on both parents and Catherine could feel the hard edge of frustration in her shoulders, her thoughts chasing their tails around her head in a crazy bid to reach a conclusion.

"So who killed baby Emmanuel?"

Warrick glanced between Catherine and Brass waiting to see who was going to leap into the unknown. They didn't often guess when it came to these kinds of cases; it was far too easy to make assumptions that were more often then not, incorrect. But Warrick knew that when Catherine made a leap, she always looked before she landed on uncharted ground. It didn't surprise him when she spoke up first, her eyes flashing.

"Nobody broke into that house. There is nothing to support that theory. We went through that room, top to bottom and there was nothing. According to David, Emmanuel had been dead for two hours before his mother checked on him, three by the time we got there. When I first had Lindsey, I was checking on her every five minutes, literally."

"Well I don't think it's the parents. Someone still could have broken in. We've seen cases like this before Cath. We thought it was one thing but it was another thing entirely."

Catherine squared her shoulders at Warrick's comment.

"If someone broke into that house, I will buy you both a full meal at The Persian."

"And if you're right?"

"I have some yard work that I could use some help with. Deal?"

"Deal."

They all shook before turning their attention back to the task at hand.

"So with nothing on the parents, where do we go from here?"

"We need talk to Doc and see what he got from Emmanuel. Until we get that, all we can do is speculate."

"Speculating is good. How the hell does someone break into a house and leave nothing to prove that they have been there? And what would the motive be to killing a nine month old child?"

"Maybe it was cot death?"

Catherine laughed bitterly.

"Yeah and maybe I'll go back to stripping one day."

She stood, leaving the men with amused expressions. She needed to beat the pavement, needed to do something to keep herself busy.

* * *

They were still waiting for the lunch but Sara was doing what she did best; chasing white rabbits. She had taken what she could from the photos, passing them through the reconstructive programme on the computer. She then passed it through the missing person's programme, filing away any hits that might bring about a possible ID. She managed to narrow it down to two possible victims; Janice Maize and Sophia Jones. She hit print and headed over to Grissom's office, knowing that he would be there going over what little they had on the new case. She was right of course, he was behind his desk, glasses perched low on his nose.

"I narrowed it down."

Grissom looked at her over his glasses.

"Already?"

"Yup. Janice Maize and Sophia Jones"

She handed him the piece of paper, watching as he read it over.

"Chasing rabbits again huh?"

She gave him a wide smile as she took a seat across from him.

"What can I say? I have no patience."

"It's a benefit sometimes. Case in point for example."

"So we go see Doc?"

Grissom nodded as he pushed himself away from his desk, closing the file as he did so.

"We go see Doc"

Doc seemed to know they were coming. The body was laid out, neatly stitched back together, head wound free of blood and skull debris. They put on their scrubs and moved closer to the table.

"Blunt force trauma is COD. No surprises there."

"Weapon?"

"A brick, judging by the red fragments that I found in the wound. But it was wrapped in something."

Doc offered Sara the Petrie dish, a small piece of fabric tucked inside. Sara examined it closely, before giving it to Grissom.

"Looks like panty hose."

"I'll buy that. What else can you tell us Doc?"

"She was hit about the head eight to ten times, any of which could have been fatal. She also had a child at some point, she has a caesarean scar. She's been dead for about two days before she was found."

"And the winner is…..Sophia Jones. Missing for two days and has one daughter."

"I don't think there's any winner in this situation Sara. But it looks like we finally have an ID."

"But no suspects."

"Yet. The trial just got hot though."

Sara gave Doc a quick smile before she followed Grissom out of the morgue. Now came not the not so fun part. Tracking down the families and informing them that they had found their loved one. Watching as their world's crumpled beneath them, shattering any hope of finding that person alive was one of the hardest aspects of this job. She, thankfully, didn't have to do it very often but she felt for Brass. He played it tough but he was a big softy at heart and Sara knew that it stung him every time he broke the news to people. His job was just as hard as hers, if not harder. She got to hide in the lab, follow the science but Brass had to stand on the front line, day after day, wound after wound, heartbreak after heartbreak. She admired his strength. As she followed Grissom, she made a mental note to buy Brass a beer after this case was over and done with.

* * *

"How did my wife die?"

Sara exchanged a quick look with Grissom, who nodded ever so slightly.

"She was bludgeoned."

"You mean she was beaten to death?"

"Yes"

Robert Jones didn't cry, he just opened and closed his mouth a few times before his eyes went impossibly wide.

"My daughter, she will be finishing school soon. I need to go and pick her up."

He made a move to stand up but his legs crumbled beneath him and he fell back into the sofa.

"Mr. Jones, we could send a plain clothes officer to pick her up, bring her right back here."

Grissom waited patiently for the man to absorb his offer. Even though the husband was a suspect, if he was as innocent as he claimed to be, this was a huge shock for him.

"Thank-you. I don't think I could drive in this condition."

Grissom nodded once before slipping off to a quiet corner to make the call. Sara turned her attention back to Mr. Jones.

"Do you want me to get you a glass of water Mr. Jones?"

"Would it be a bad thing if I asked for a vodka?"

Sara shook her head before heading to the small bar that dominated a small section of the living room. She half filled a tumbler before handing it over to Mr. Jones, who drunk from it greedily. His eyes teared as the alcohol seared his throat. It helped though, his hands stopped shaking and the glazed look seeped from his eyes.

"Thank-you, I needed that."

Sara gave him a slight smile before getting back onto the topic at hand.

"Did your wife have any enemies?"

Mr. Jones took another drink of vodka before speaking again.

"My wife, cliché as it sounds, was a well loved woman. And even if she did have any enemies I strongly doubt that they would resort to something like this."

"You'd be surprised at what I've seen Mr. Jones. Normal people can do the most evil and heinous things."

"Please call me Robert. I think this kind of situation allows first name basis."

"Well in that case, call me Sara."

"Ok Sara, what kind of person kills a homemaker?"

"Someone very sick"

Robert picked up a wedding picture, a small smile on his face.

"We met in high school. She was the most popular girl there and I was the stoner."

"Odd combination"

"I know. We got married at nineteen and so many people said that we would never make it. Thirty-five years together this year"

Robert began to sob again. Despite all of her reservations and all her training telling her otherwise, her heart still went out to the man. To love someone for so long just to have them taken away was heart breaking. After a few more minutes, the tears ceased again.

"Am I a suspect?"

"Yes. But everybody is at the beginning of an investigation. Once we have confirmed your alibi for the established time frame of her death, we can eliminate you as a suspect."

"Ok"

Grissom re-entered the room and they chatted only a little while longer before the front door burst open. A tall, willowy limbed teenage girl came striding into the room, her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail with thick strands of royal blur ribbon.

"Daddy, what's going on?"

"Anna, you need to sit down"

Anna Jones obediently sat down next to her father, her hands coming to rest on her jean clad knees. She looked from her father to Grissom and Sara before speaking again.

"What's going on?"

Robert took his daughter's hand in his own, the tears beginning again as he spoke.

"They found mom"

Anna smiled brightly.

"Good. Is she home then?"

"No sweetheart. Mom died."

Ana's face fell and tears began to fall down her slim cheeks.

"Mom's dead?"

"Yes."

Anna fell into her father's arms, her face buried in his chest. For all his supposed lack of grace when it came to times like these, Grissom chose that time to declare their exit. He remained silent until they were back in the Delani, his deep even breaths indicating that he was lost in thought.

"The husband's alibi checks out. I just finished talking to Brass and the meeting he had at the precise time of her death makes him impossible to blame."

"So we're back to square one."

Sara felt slightly defeated. Grissom's face remained blank as he began to speak.

"Ah, young grasshopper, you have much to learn. What do we do when our suspect list is nil?"

Sara was too busy smiling at Grissom's 'Karate Kid' reference to do more then shrug.

"We look at the victims surroundings. Our suspect is hiding out there somewhere in this community."

"So let's play hide and seek then"

Now it was Grissom's turn to smile. They drove back to the lab in one of their rare, comfortable silences.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Angels And The Demons That Follow

Emmanuel's body looked ridiculously small on one of Doc's hard metal tables and there was an extreme air of sadness in the room, almost as if everybody was mourning the loss of such a young life. Doc was eating at his desk when Catherine and Warrick walked in.

"Hey Doc"

Doc offered them a small smile.

"The wife found out I was autopsying a baby today. Her solution was baking me my favorite pie"

"And that would be?"

"Chocolate-coconut with extra cream"

Catherine nodded as she moved closer to Emmanuel.

"You have a good wife Doc. Did it work?"

"To a degree, yes. I would rather not have him here in the first place though."

"You and the rest of us. What do we know?"

Doc made his way back over to Emmanuel, his face solemn.

"That he was murdered"

"How?"

"Tylenol"

"I thought baby Tylenol was harmless?"

This time Catherine provided the answer to Warrick's question.

"Normally it is. But if you mix adult Tylenol with the child brand, as well as giving them more then the recommended dose, then it's deadly."

"Are you sure that it wasn't accidental?"

"I thought it was as well. Then I saw these."

It wasn't unusual for bruises to become more vivid after death, but Catherine still felt angry that she had missed then in the first place. It was her job to pay attention and yet she still overlooked one of the most basic parts of her job. A dark blue bruise spanned from his lower neck to his chin, settling the murder or accident argument once and for all.

"Someone held him still while they poured Tylenol down his throat. It was at least 60mls in all. Did you find any vomit on the scene?"

"No. Why?"

"Because it would have been an automatic reaction for him to vomit. There may have been more but the most likely thing was that he managed to expel it."

"Anything else?"

Doc removed the while sheet completely and Catherine was finally able to see the whole picture.

"As you can see, baby Emmanuel had been through a lot. The needle marks indicate repetitive withdrawing of blood or admission of medication. So much so that his body could hardly keep up."

"Where's the freshest mark?"

"Left inner thigh"

Catherine moved closer, ignoring the smell of death that clung to the table. It was so small that if Doc's sharp eyes hadn't caught it, it would have gone unnoticed.

"Did you try and get a scraping?"

"Of course, it's with Greg"

"Anything else Doc?"

"Nope, that's it"

Catherine watched as Doc covered Emmanuel again with the sheet before pushing him back into his compartment in the cooler.

* * *

Sophia's husband had been right. Sophia had been an incredibly loved woman. They had gone from club to club that she had been involved in and every single person sung her praises but despite their positive affirmations, they all seemed to be hiding something. There was elbow nudging and serious, heavy looks every time someone went to indulge in anything but the running commentary that they had been hearing all day. Sara sat back and watched the older woman carefully as they chatted to Grissom. There were about ten of them in all varying from in size and age but there was just the one that held her attention. Her name was Elizabeth Bryant and if she was forced to guess, she could not have been more then eighteen. She was by far the quietest on in the group, her red hair hiding most of her face. She didn't want to be there, that much was obvious by her body language and her hard silence and the way she kept her mouth full with the crepes that someone had provided. The women continued to chatter noisily to Grissom, who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. He kept trying to keep their focus on the topic at hand but they kept slipping away, jumping from topic to topic. Sara waited for her opportunity, sighing with relief when it finally came in the form of Elizabeth going into the kitchen, alone, to refill the plate of crepes. Sara exchanged a look with Grissom before following the girl into the kitchen. Sara sidled up to her, standing close enough to see her face but not close enough to intimidate her.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging out with the rest of the ladies in there?"

If Elizabeth was surprised by Sara's presence, she didn't let on, her eyes still completely focused on her task.

"My mom makes me come. She thinks it makes me more sociable."

"Parents, huh? My mom used to do that too."

Elizabeth smiled slightly and Sara was struck by just how much that smile changed the girl's sharp face, softening the unrelenting edges.

"So Elizabeth, do you know what they are hiding?"

Elizabeth's smile disappeared, her eyes falling again.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do."

Elizabeth shook her head, her hair swaying.

"No I don't. I have to get back now."

Sara caught Elizabeth by her bony elbow, making her spin back to face her.

"This is not a game Elizabeth. Sophia was murdered and there is a dangerous killer on the loose. You could get into more trouble keeping your mouth shut then you could by speaking."

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears as she pulled her arm from Sara's grip.

"You have no idea what you are talking about. I don't know anything. Just leave me alone."

Sara watched as Elizabeth left the kitchen. Her patience, which she wasn't known for in the first place, was beginning to wane. Whatever Elizabeth was hiding, it was the key to the case. The question was who was she so scared of?

* * *

Greg was running out of options. Grissom had sent him home for the rest of the day after an almost seventy-four hour shift but all the things that usually made him relax, had failed. The laundry was done, as were the dishes and the vacuuming. Something was bugging him, and irritation in his brain that he could not get rid of. He popped his new CD's into his player before stretching out on the sofa trying to relax. Unfortunately, the blasting sounds of Alkaline Trio and Red Jumpsuit Apparatus didn't do the trick and after twenty minutes he found himself off the sofa, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wasn't used to being unable to relax; he could always switch himself off. Maybe it was because of the murder of baby Emmanuel. He hadn't encountered too many deaths that involved infants and to say it was unnerving was an understatement. He had learnt very quickly that every CSI had something that set them off, made their blood boil. He was still rookie enough not to have found that very thing yet but Emmanuel's death had gotten under his skin in the most awful way. There was hard knock on his front door and for once he was happy for the intrusion on his thought process. He wasn't quite prepared for what he faced when he opened the front door.

"Hey Cath"

Catherine gave him a wide smile, one hand one her hip the other holding a tray of coffee's.

"Hey Greggo. Are you going to let me in or not?"

Greg moved aside and let Catherine pass him.

"Cath?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

Catherine offered him another smile as well as a coffee.

"I need to pick your brains"

"Ok, want something to eat?"

"What you got?"

Greg went into the kitchen, rifling around the cupboards before locating the pack of corn chips that he had brought the week before.

"Corn chips and guacamole ok?"

"Great"

Greg settled himself next to Catherine and they munched quietly before Greg's curiosity got the better of him.

"What do you need to pick my brains for?"

Catherine wiped her hand on a napkin before extracting a file from her handbag. Greg sighed as he glanced at the label that was stuck to the front.

"Ah, the Roberts Case, I was just thinking about that."

"You and the rest of us"

Catherine spread the file out on the table in front of them and Greg instantly lost his desire to eat. Emmanuel's tiny body looked lost on the coroner's table. He hadn't seen the body and up until that point, he was happy not to have seen it.

"He's so small"

"It's such a waste. Doc said he died of a Tylenol overdose"

"Yeah, he told me that. Did you get the results I sent you?"

"No. What were they?"

"The substance around the injection sites was insulin. But here's the catch; Emmanuel wasn't diabetic."

"So why was he being given the shots?"

Greg shrugged.

"I have no idea. But I do know that it leaves only two suspects."

"The mom and the dad."

"Exactly. Unless there was someone who had almost constant access to Emmanuel."

Catherine gave Greg a small smile.

"And this is why I need to pick your brains. I'm overworked and I needed clarity"

"And you're a mom, that can't help."

"You're right there."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure"

"Do you ever regret having Lindsey?"

Catherine fought the maternal instinct to say 'no' allowing herself a chance to really think about the question. While Lindsey was the best thing that had come out of her marriage to Eddie, she was also one of the most difficult aspects of Catherine's life.

"As much as I hate to say it, in my more selfish moments, yes I do. But on other days, I'm glad I do have her. She keeps me grounded. Do you ever want kids?"

"One day. Yes. At the moment, I like my freedom a little too much to consider it."

"You'll be a great dad Greggo, you're good with kids."

"Thanks, it means a lot coming from you."

A small silence fell before Catherine spoke again.

"How could a mother do this? Kill her own child?"

"Post-natal depression is one. It's one of the leading causes of death in infants."

"Yeah but that does not explain the injections."

"So maybe the answers in his medical records. There must be a paper trail for something like this."

"I guess we're going back to work then, huh?"

She gave him a wide smile before they both headed out the door.

* * *

"Natalie Cooper"

"Sorry?"

Greg pushed himself away from the computer he was working at, so that he came to rest beside Catherine, who was working on the opposite side of the room.

"Natalie Cooper, Savannah's sister. She's a nurse at St Mary's hospital."

"Access to needles, insulin and Tylenol"

"Motive?"

"How about we explore that after we talk to the sister?"

* * *

Natalie Cooper was a lot taller than her sister, with an incredibly curvy frame and dark brown hair. She came to the front reception almost as soon as she was buzzed, her face flushed slightly with exertion.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"I'm Catherine Willows and this is Greg sanders. We're helping to investigate your nephews death."

Natalie's face fell slightly before she ushered them off to the side into an empty room. She locked the door before turning to face them again.

"Savannah and Jack are heartbroken. Do you have any leads yet?"

Greg stepped forward first, his face relaxed and friendly. If he wanted her to talk, he had to give her the impression that she could.

"How often did you see your nephew?"

"Everyday. My sister's house is close to the hospital and I would often go over at the end of my shift."

"Do you have access to needles, insulin and Tylenol?"

"Of course I do, I'm a nurse. What does this have to do with Emmanuel's death?"

"Miss Cooper – "

"Natalie."

"Natalie, we believe that Emmanuel was murdered."

"What!? Who would do that to a baby?"

"You"

Natalie glanced between them, her face shocked, her mouth wide.

"What?"

"You're a suspect along with your sister and brother-in-law."

"But I have no motive, no reason to want to see my nephew dead."

Catherine removed a file from under her arm, holding it lightly in her fingers.

"You fought with your sister when she first got pregnant. The police had to be called. Jealousy maybe?"

"No, it wasn't like that at all"

Greg cocked his eyebrows at her.

"Then what was it Natalie?"

Natalie shook her head, her hair bumping around her shoulders.

"I was engaged to Jack for two years and the whole time he was having an affair with Savannah. I called it off when I found out and two weeks later they were married."

"So why did you see them everyday?"

Natalie glanced at Catherine.

"Do you have siblings?"

"Yes, a sister."

"Then you know the love hate relationship that you have with them. It's the same with Savannah and I. The daily visits were our attempt to heal the past but that night she told me she was pregnant with Jack's baby, I lost it."

"You punched a pregnant woman in the face and stomach"

"I lost my temper, surely you can understand that."

Catherine shook her head, her eyes narrowed.

"When I get angry I take a walk, listen to loud music or have a long hot bath. I don't use my fists against anybody or anything."

Natalie ran her fingers over her face, pinching the skin on the bridge of her nose.

"I've never been very good at controlling my temper. But that does not mean that I would dream of hurting Emmanuel."

"We know you can't have children of your own."

"So thousands of people can't. My mother took a supplement when she was pregnant with me and I got the bad end of the genetic bargain. It means nothing, I can adopt if I wish to. It does not make me a killer."

"It does make you a suspect though."

Natalie stood, her hands coming together in front of her.

"So am I under arrest then?"

"Not yet. But there will be an officer coming to see you at some point. We'll need to know where you were at the time of Emmanuel's death."

"I was at my sisters."

"What time did you leave?"

"About 1:30pm, just after lunch. I had to start work at 2:30"

Greg nodded, his face holding no trace of the previous friendliness. They had yet another suspect to add to the slowly growing list. Worse still, the odds against Natalie were stacked far more against her then anyone else.

"Just make sure you stay where we can find you, ok?"

"Fine. Can I please go back to work now?"

Catherine nodded and she and Greg watched Natalie walk out of the room. She waited until the door was securely closed before she gave Greg a wide smile.

"Good find Greggo. We may just have caught Emmanuel's killer."

Greg took a slight bow.

"I live to serve"

Catherine punched him lightly in the arm.

"Come on Greg, I'll buy you dinner."

"Great. Saving the world makes me hungry."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – Leviticus

Grissom was examining the scrap of stocking that they had gotten from Sophia's head wound, his glasses on the table beside him, his face pressed into the microscope.

"Got anything?"

He lifted his head up long enough to give Sara a small frown before returning it back to its previous position.

"No skin or hairs. They are a new pair."

"Can I take a look?"

Grissom stepped back, placing his glasses back in their proper position on his nose.

"Be my guest."

Sara looked down the microscope, examining the scrap of material closely.

"It's a pair of fish net stockings."

"How do you know that?"

Sara raised her head and gave Grissom a wide smile.

"Take it from me Grissom, it's definitely a pair of fish net stockings."

"Yes, but how do you know that?"

"Personal experience with the pain in the ass things. You can also tell by the shape of the diagonal thread, as well as the thickness of them."

"Ok but I'm still wondering what you were doing wearing a pair of fish net stockings."

Sara leaned against the table her head cocked as she examined Grissom. These were the moments when he made her wonder exactly what was going on inside that head of his and whether the comments he made meant anything more then he intended them too. Grissom, unlike some of the guys she knew, was incredibly hard to read.

"What does it matter?"

"I study people, it's my job. Call it natural curiosity."

Sara smiled again.

"I wore them a few times in high school then again last Halloween."

"Didn't you work last Halloween?"

"Yeah but it was a quiet night and you sent us all home."

"And you went trick-or-treating?

"Why not? You think I'm too old?"

"No….I just can't picture you trick-or-treating wearing fish net stockings."

"Well I did and I do. For Halloween anyway."

"What did you go as?"

"A witch. Only in a short skirt instead of a cape."

"So no mole then?"

"No mole. But it's definitely fish net stockings."

"Unfortunately, it does not lead us to pre-meditation. They just may have grabbed the first thing they could"

"Looks that way. A brick in a stocking could make a fairly decent weapon of choice."

"Does it ever. Eight to ten blows to the skull could kill even the biggest man."

Sara glanced at the coroner's pictures that Grissom had laid out over his desk. He had been examining them closely, a hand held magnifying glass close by.

"What were you looking for?"

"Anything. But there isn't anything that we didn't already know."

Sara nodded as she took a seat, watching as Grissom continued his examination of the piece of stocking.

"What bugs me is that Elizabeth Bryant isn't talking. What is she so scared of?"

"Maybe the killer"

"But if it is, he's already killed once he could just dispose of her, tie up any loose ends."

"Maybe he likes toying with her. Either way, we need to get her to talk."

"I tried and nothing happened"

"We should get Brass to bring her in, scare the truth out of her"

"Or scare her into keeping her mouth closed for good."

"Risk it all or nothing Sara, I'm afraid we don't have much choice."

Sara rubbed her eyes with the balls of her hands and opened her mouth to speak but Grissom's cell phone ringing paused any further comment. The conversation was brief; before Grissom clicked his phone closed and frowned at Sara.

"Anna Jones is here to see us."

Sara frowned back before following him down the hall to the reception area. Anna was standing with her back to them, her posture stiff.

"Miss Jones?"

Anna turned and Sara's heart sank a little. The young girl's pretty round face was pinched from lack of sleep and her eyes were flame red from crying.

"Mr. Grissom, Miss Sidle, thank you fro seeing me."

"Not a problem Anna. Do you want to talk somewhere a little more private?"

"Yes please"

Grissom touched her upper arm lightly as he led her back down the hall and into his office. Sara perched herself in the corner, silently letting Grissom take the lead. He settled Anna in a chair, offering her something to drink before taking a seat behind his desk.

"So how can we help you?"

Anna sniffed slightly.

"I want to know how my mother died."

Grissom shook his head hard,

"No"

"My father refuses to tell me, why can't you?"

"Because it not vital that you know."

"Look Anna – "

Anna jumped up and all but threw herself across the desk, her face almost pressed into Grissom's. She was so close that he could smell the distinct scent of M&M's on her breath.

"I'm not a child Mr. Grissom. If you don't tell me how my mother died, I will find someone who will."

It took her a moment for her to sink back into her seat but when she did, the tears were tumbling down her cheeks. Sara passed her a box of tissues that lay forgotten in the corner of the room. Not very many people broke into tears in Grissom's office. Grissom waited until she had calmed down before speaking.

"Ask your father. I have no right to tell you anything."

"I did ask my father and he told me to come to you. Don't bounce me around. For fuck sake my mother just died and suddenly, no one is willing to speak to me, her poor daughter."

"Anna, there is a reason for that."

"Well tell me what it is. And it had better be good."

"Because your mother died in an incredibly violent way Anna. It's not that we don't want to tell you, it's that we don't these images to be the last you have of your mother."

Anna shook her head, the balls of her hands rubbing her eyes.

"The last images I have of my mother are tainted, regardless of what you tell me."

Grissom studied Anna, he was torn over what to do. On one hand, Anna had every right to know about what happened to her mother but then again, it wasn't up to him to inform her of the violent way her mother perished.

"Tell her Grissom."

He was so lost in thought he hadn't realized that Sara had moved to his side, her mouth close to his ear.

"Tell her Grissom, she needs it."

Grissom glanced at Anna.

"Ann, could you please give us a moment?"

Anna nodded and slipped quietly from the room. Sara stayed where she was, her body pressing lightly against his back. He focused for a split second on her heat flowing against him, the sweet smell of her hair and her breath against his air.

"You need to tell her."

Grissom snapped back into focus, trying to ignore the tugging in the pit of his stomach.

"Why would she need to know? There's nothing to gain from it."

"We lost both of our father's Gil. We know what happened to them but can you imagine not knowing? If your mother blocked you out of what had happened to your dad? How would you feel?"

"Confused"

"And pissed. She needs closure Gil and we have the power to give that to her."

"But how do you tell someone that their mother was beaten to death?"

Sara pulled back slightly, a warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

"You'll figure it out. But we still need to tell her. Someone has too."

Her warm presence left his side and he was left with a distinct feeling of loss for that contact, despite the fact that she was only a few feet away, ushering Anna back into the office. With most people he encountered, he didn't censor himself, saying whatever was in his head. But with Sara he always encountered a self made boundary, one where he could flirt with her openly at a crime scene but the moment that they were somewhere more intimate, he could bring himself to say anything at all.

"Mr. Grissom are you going to tell me or not?"

"Anna, you're mother died after having sustained a series of blows to her head."

"How do you know that?"

"The injuries that were marked on her skull and with forensic analysis"

"Do you have any suspects?"

"Not yet but we are working on it."

"Did she suffer?"

"No. It was quick."

Anna nodded the tears now dry on her cheeks.

"Thank you Mr. Grissom. I appreciate your honesty."

Anna slipped quietly from the room and Grissom sighed and sunk back into his seat. He was a never a good liar and when he did do it, he always felt like he had a tonne of bricks on his shoulders. His heart thumped painfully in his chest and his palms felt clammy.

"You did good Grissom."

"I lied to her."

"She needed to hear about her mother's death but not the details. Lying to her helped Grissom."

"Either way, I feel guilty"

"Don't. Trust me when I say you did something good here. It's not so unusual you know."

"What, me lying?"

Sara smiled at him affectionately.

"No, you doing something nice."

"Many would argue that point"

"They don't know you well enough then, do they?"

Grissom smiled at her, one of those rare smiles that wiped the age off his face and made him seem youthful and carefree from a few seconds.

"Thank you. It's been a while since I've had a reason to smile."

Sara returned the smile with one of her own, her gap flashing at him endearingly.

"My pleasure. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Want to come with me to the deli or should I just pick you something up?"

Grissom glanced around his office. There was still a lot to be done but he had not eaten recently and his stomach rumbled.

"I'll come with I need some fresh air anyway."

Sara watched as he gathered up a few things, a small smile gracing her face. She enjoyed her time alone with Grissom. It didn't matter that they would spend the entire time talking about the case, alone time with Grissom was still alone time. That and someone aside from Catherine, who was busy, needed to make sure the man ate something. He had a tendency to forget that he needed to eat and the break room coffee, that barely pass for coffee anymore, could only get you so far.

"Ready?"

She nodded and followed him out of the office, closing the door behind her.

* * *

"So how old were you when you first went trick-or-treating?"

Sara almost choked on her Caesar salad, the question was so random and so personal, that with a gasp of air she managed to shoot a crouton to the back of her throat. She took a sip of soda and chewed the softened piece of bread. When they had fist arrived at the diner, they had made small talk about the case until their food had arrived. Then they slipped into comfortable silence as they ate. This question, came so out of left field, it took Sara few seconds to gather the answer.

"I was six."

"What did you go as?"

"A car crash victim"

Grissom frowned as he took another bite of his grilled chicken sandwich.

"That's unusual for a six year old."

Sara pushed her salad aside, her appetite gone. She stabbed her French fry into the ketchup, watching as the potato disintegrated in the sauce.

"It was mom's idea. Dad had lost his temper the night before."

"He hit you?"

"Yes. I had a nightmare and wet the bed. He always hated it when I did that."

Grissom didn't say anything for a moment, just studied her as he chewed his food. He had kno0wn that her father had hit her mom but would never had suspected that he had also beaten his only daughter.

"Don't feel sorry for me Grissom."

Sara gave him a hard look, almost daring him to feel pity for her.

"I don't feel sorry for you Sara. A person's past shapes who they are. And you cannot be held responsible for your father's actions."

"Unfortunately neither could he."

Sara was almost relieved when her cell phone chirped, followed closely by Grissom's.

"Sidle"

"Sara, it's Brass. You've got a visitor"

"Who?"

"Elizabeth Bryant"

"Ok thanks Brass. We'll be right in"

Sara gave Grissom a small smile as he paid for their half eaten meal.

"I guess we didn't have to risk anything at all. She came to us"

"Sometimes the fates do smile down on us lowly mortals."

* * *

Brass stayed in the darkened corner of the interview room, letting Sara and Grissom take the lead. It was their case, their investigation. He knew that some detectives would be insulted about the 'geek squad', as they were known in some circles, stepping on their toes. But Brass had been In Grissom's position at one point and he knew what it was like when there was a hot lead. He had also learnt that it didn't matter who solved the case, just as long as there was a conclusion for the families that were left behind. He had too much respect for Grissom and his small hardworking team to let his pride alienate him.

"So Elizabeth, what can we do for you?"

Elizabeth sniffed before answering.

"I thought about what you said."

Sara frowned at the lanky girl.

"So you're going to talk to us then?"

Elizabeth shook her head, big tears beginning to make their way down her cheeks.

"I can't tell you what you want me too."

"Why not?"

"Because if I do, my life will be over. The person you're after will destroy everything."

Sara reached forward and placed her hand over Elizabeth's.

"We can protect you."

"No you can't"

"Well then, what can you tell us?"

"You need to look closer."

"At who?"

Suddenly seized by panic, Elizabeth stood up quickly, her chair shooting out from beneath her.

"I shouldn't be here. They'll know that I was here, talking to you."

And with that, before anyone could say anything else, Elizabeth had barreled out of the room and down the hall. Sara made a move to follow her but Grissom stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Let her go, she's terrified."

"Of the killer obviously. But we need to get her to tell us something."

"No we don't. She told us what we needed to know"

"And that was?"

"To look closer"

* * *

Catherine awoke with a start, instantly feeling guilty. She had sent Greg to do a background check on Natalie and instead of doing some of her own work she had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. Catherine sat up, trying to straighten the kink in her neck. She hated falling asleep in these chairs. She gave her hair a quick brush with her hands before heading out to find Greg. All she needed to do was follow the sound of music, the kind that everyone else knew was Greg's, which led her to one of the empty interview rooms, where Greg sat, his head bopping to the music. Catherine turned the volume right down before taking a seat.

"Hey Greggo, what you listening to?"

"Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Very. Find anything interesting?"

Greg stretched his hands out in front of him, a smile on his face.

"Well Sleeping Beauty, I did as you requested and ran a check over Natalie Cooper."

"And?"

"Nothing out of the normal there up until the disturbance at her sister's house that is."

"Is she a viable suspect?"

"Most definitely. She has a motive as well as access to the things that led to Emmanuel's death"

"So we send Brass for her?"

"Yup. Emmanuel's killer is finally getting what she deserves."

"If that's the case, then why doesn't it feel right?"

"You got that feeling to, huh?"

Catherine shrugged as she ran her hands through her hair.

"Something off about this entire thing. I don't think Natalie did it"

"The problem is that all the evidence is pointing to her. She has everything we need to tie her up with this."

"It's too convenient, too neat and too tidy."

"So we're missing something then?"

"Yeah, the elephant in the room."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four – Drops Of Silence

The body swung gently from side to side, making the rope creak eerily. For the first time in a long time, Sara felt the nausea rise heavy and sour in her throat.

"Murder?"

Grissom shook his head as he pointed to the computer that hummed quietly in the corner of the room.

"_I can't do this anymore. They know what I know. They destroyed my life and my parents. I am so sorry"_

Sara began to take pictures of Elizabeth Bryant's body, getting as many as she could before the coroner came to take it away. She could hear hysterical crying behind the closed door and not for the first time, she wondered what made Elizabeth take her life. Grissom worked silently beside her, lost in his own train of thought. Elizabeth's last words had been repeating like a mantra in his head since he had seen her. Look closer. The question that nagged him was what were they meant to be looking at? They didn't have any real suspects. How could you look closely at something when you had no idea what it was meant to be? They stood back and watched the coroner pronounce and take Elizabeth's body away before finishing the room. Sara quickly discovered that the sounds of hysteria were not from the parents, who stood seriously in the corner of the kitchen, but from two sobbing figures who sat in the hard seats. It was a boy not much older then Elizabeth and a little girl, no older then nine. Claire and David Bryant were far too calm for Sara's liking, standing sedately away from the sobbing pair. Claire Bryant looked like an older version of Elizabeth, only more serious and with much colder eyes. Her husband was slightly shorter with extremely broad shoulders and bushy arched eyebrows.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bryant, we are sorry for your loss."

Claire shrugged, her face pulled into a grim smile.

"It's not a loss. She chose the way out. She's with God now."

"Mr. and Mrs. Bryant can we ask you a few questions?"

They both nodded once before taking seats on one side of the table, Sara and Grissom taking the other.

"Do you know why your daughter would kill herself?"

The pair exchanged a glance before settling their hard, calm gazes on the CSI's.

"Our daughter is…was a troubled young lady. We recently discovered that she has been practicing pre-marital sex with her boyfriend. And she was pregnant."

All the pieces fell into place and Sara suddenly knew why Elizabeth was so scared. At just eighteen she knew who had committed a murder and she was pregnant to boot.

"How did you find out she was pregnant?"

David gave her a hard look.

"She told us yesterday"

"And how did you react?"

"The same way any parent would. Then I told her to pack her bags and leave this house before her sinfulness infects us all"

Grissom exchanged a glance with Sara, realizing they were on the same thought; how could someone do that to your child?

"And then what?"

"Her boyfriend came over to help her move her pack, despite our protests. We didn't want him here."

"When did you know something was wrong?"

"When Dave said that she had locked her door. We tried to open it but when we could not, we called the police."

"Sara, can you please talk to Dave and I'll finish here."

Sara gave a slight nod before moving away from Grissom and down the hall. The sobbing pair were now down in the last bedroom, one that captured the way the Bryant's lived perfectly. There were no posters on the walls, just a vivid depiction of the death of Jesus Christ above two single beds. A stack of Bibles and other religious paraphernalia littered the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed was the boyfriend Dave and Elizabeth's little sister, Amy.

"Hi, I'm Sara."

Sara took a seat on the floor, cross-legged in front of them.

"Dave, can you tell me what happened?""

He wiped his nose on his sleeve of his jersey, one arm still around the quivering little girl.

"Elizabeth called me over to help her pack. She was going to move in with me and my parents. But her dad went nuts when he saw me. He started slapping her around, calling her stupid and useless. I held him off and she locked herself in her room. That was the last time I saw her alive."

Little Amy sobbed loudly against Dave's chest before slipping off the bed and running out of the room.

"Dave, do you know what Elizabeth was so afraid of?"

Dave shook his head, his face screwing up as the tears started again.

"No, she never told me. She just said that someone knew our secret."

"Did she mention who knew?"

"No just that they did. She didn't deserve this, neither of us did. We were going to raise that baby. We were going to get married and make a life together."

Dave began to sob again and Sara moved from her place on the floor, intending to go back to the dining room but Dave's chocked up voice made her pause.

"Do you know who did this to us?"

"Not yet but I will."

"Thank you"

Sara closed the door quietly behind her and headed back to the dining room, shocked by what she saw. Amy was still sobbing but instead of comforting her child, Claire Bryant ignored the little girls repeated attempts to hug her. Amy, obviously in desperate need for comfort, moved to her father's side, trying to gain his attention. But instead of ignoring her as his wife had done, David Bryant did something much worse. He slapped the little girl across the cheek, the sound emanating off the bland walls. Far from calming her, the slap sent her into deeper hysterics, the sobs even louder then before. David pulled his hand back to slap her again only this time his hand never found its mark. With speed that Sara had only seen a few times before, Grissom moved between the man and his daughter.

"Put your hand down Mr. Bryant"

David Bryant looked at Grissom, his face pulled into a confused frown. In his world, nobody questioned the hitting of his wife and children; it was the way things were done.

"Hand down"

He dropped his hand back to his side and Grissom glanced at Sara.

"Can you please take Amy outside? I'll call Brass."  
David moved forward to stop Sara but Grissom moved slightly and blocked the man off.

"What do you think you're doing with my daughter?"

Grissom didn't back down, his voice still maintaining that smooth, calm tone.

"Saving her from you"

Sara took Amy's hand, leading the little girl outside to sit on the front step.

"Are you ok sweetheart?"

Amy continued to sob, her entire body shaking. Sara said nothing more, just let the little girl lean against her. Sara had previously thought of herself as lacking in the maternal gene, that it had somehow skipped her. But a few months after her arrival in Las Vegas, she had an encounter with a little girl that had been severely abused by her own father. That small girl changed her perspective on her own instincts. While she was hardly going to pop out kids in the next few years, it was still good to know that the very thing she thought she lacked had merely been lying dormant. Brass pulled up a little while later, his face flushed.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to make an arrest for Catherine and Greg. How can I help you?"

Sara glanced down at Amy who had cried herself to sleep and was now lying curled on Sara's lap.

"Father slapped little Amy here. Grissom's inside if you want details."

Brass paused as he moved past her, a small smile on his face.

"You look good with the kid Sara."

He left quickly, all business again and Sara filed the comment as a compliment. She continued to stroke Amy's soft brown hair as the little girl continued to suck her thumb and sleep, the tears still wet on her cheeks. Sara pretended not to hear the yelling going on inside the house, even though she could hear Grissom and Brass's voices mixed in with Amy's parents before Grissom and Brass burst out of the fly screen door, Dave following close behind.

"We're taking Amy with us."

Grissom held open the door for Dave, who climbed into the passenger side next to Brass. He then opened the back door for Sara, who scooped up Amy, who was surprisingly light, and got into the car, Grissom slipping in beside her. The ride back to HQ was completely silent, Sara doing nothing more then look out the window, lost in thought of Elizabeth. She could not imagine being so terrified that she could possibly take her own life. What kind of person could strike that kind of fear, so deep that there seemed no way out?

"Dave, you go with Detective Brass, ok? We need you to give a statement over what happened with Elizabeth"

Dave nodded his head low as he exited the vehicle, Brass's big hand on his shoulder as they entered HQ.

"It's such a waste"

Grissom's voice was low and thoughtful, almost as if he was talking to himself.

"In one night a young girl and a baby are lost with no real explanation as to why she felt that suicide was her only way out."

"There are never any answers to death Grissom. You know that better then I do."

Grissom glanced down at Amy, who was still sleeping soundly between them. He wondered if this child, this symbol of innocence realized just how severely her world had altered. She had lost her older sister and her future niece or nephew to suicide. No person, young or old should have to live with that. For now, Amy coped with her grief in the only way children knew how; escaping to her dreams.

"Will she have to go into foster care?"

"Most likely, with our statements as well as Dave's. At least she'll have a better chance at life"

"Foster care is hardly a better life Grissom."

"You came out better then most."

"That's because the scars you gather aren't on the outside Grissom. Bouncing from home to home, never really feeling like you have a home, being shunned by your new 'family' and being labeled because you don't have parents like the rest of the kids, really hurts you."

"Sara I didn't mean-"

"I know Grissom, I know."

Amy began to stir in Sara's arms and she waited with baited breath to see how the girl would react. Amy opened her bloodshot eyes, glancing between Sara and Grissom, her face pulled into a frown.

"Where are we?"

"At a laboratory."

"Why?"

"Because we need to ask you some questions."

"Can I get something to eat first? I'm really hungry"

Sara gave Grissom a small smile over the top of Amy's head.

"Sure Amy. Let's go in."

Amy climbed from the car, her face serious as she somehow managed to match Sara's long strides with several of her own quick steps.

"Did you take me away because daddy smacked me again?"

"Has he done it before?"

"Yes, it's the biblical way. Is that why you took me away?"

"In a way, yes. But first we need to talk to you about what happened to Elizabeth.

"Ok"

Sara led the little girl to the vending machine in the main reception area. She handed Amy a couple of dollar bills and stood back, allowing her to choose for herself. Amy was so used to having her world controlled by her father that when it came to choosing something for herself, she couldn't. She was starting to get agitated, bouncing from foot to foot on the verge of tears and Sara decided to make the choice for her. She selected a diet coke for herself, a Tang for Amy and a large chocolate Brownie that Greg had told her was the best sugar rush on the face of the earth. She then took Amy's hand and led her down the hall to a free interview room, pretending not to notice when Grissom slipped quietly into the room, sitting on a chair behind them. If she wasn't well aware of his gaze, Sara would believe that it was just her and Amy.

"So Amy, do you know why Elizabeth was so scared?"

Amy nodded, taking a huge bite of brownie and chasing it down with a gulp of soda.

"I know cause I always listen when Elizabeth is on the phone. I like to hear what the older girls talk about"

"Do you know who she was talking to?"

"Anna"

"Anna Jones?"

Amy shrugged.

"I don't know her last name. But she sounded angry with Elizabeth. Real angry"

"Do you know why she was so angry?"

"Cause she saw something she shouldn't of"

"And what was that?"

"Charlie kissing Anna"

"So they were angry at Elizabeth because she saw Anna kissing a boy?"

Amy smiled widely at Sara, her voice in rushed, excited tones.

"Charlie is a girl silly! I thought it was a boy too till I heard Elizabeth talking to her. She sounded mad as well."

Sara gulped and glanced at Grissom. He looked as surprised as she felt. Sara had been right to think that Elizabeth was the key, because in her death, she had busted open an entire case.

"Sara?"

Amy looked at Sara with wide solemn eyes, brownie crumbs dotting her chin and lips.

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Elizabeth's not coming back, is she?"

"No honey, she's not"

"So mommy was right then? Elizabeth is resting with the angels?"

Sara felt her eyes well with tears. Amy was a poor victim in all this. The killer of Sophia Jones took an innocent life down with them.

"Yes honey, Elizabeth is resting with angels"

"Good. Elizabeth would make a great angel."

Sara sat back and watched Amy finish the last of her brownie and soda, feeling Grissom's gaze on her back. She resisted the urge to look at him; she knew what she would see there. Amy may have lost her sister and Sara her father, but the ways that violence had dominated and affected their young lives, Sara and Amy were one in the same. Grissom knew that but Sara for once, wished he didn't know anything at all.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N - Despite what people choose to believe, the disorder listed in this chapter is indeed one that exists in our society. It is believed that hundreds of children have suffered at the hands of those suffering from it. Oh and just a useless fact that I learned in my research of Munchausen's By Proxy Syndrome is that it was named after Baron von Munchausen, who was known for telling outlandish stories! _

Chapter Five – Bed Of Nails

Catherine, despite her reservations and doubts, was gathering together the last of the paperwork to close the Emmanuel Thomas case, when a large shadow came across her desk, her doorway barely containing the Goliath of a man that stood before her.

"Miss Willows?'

"Yes, how can I help you?"

The man moved further into the room, making it seem even smaller then it already was.

"My name is Isaac Cooper. Do you have a moment to discuss the situation with my daughters and grandson?"

Catherine shook hands with the hulk of a man, her hand getting lost in his massive, firm grip.

"Of course, please take a seat."

Isaac Cooper took the seat across from Catherine and she allowed herself to study him properly. He wore a neatly pressed pinstripe suit, his blue tie matching his eyes perfectly. His eyebrows were thick and precise over a set of wide eyes and dominant nose. He wasn't a bad looking man and he seemed to present himself with an aura of power, so much so, that if you took out his size, it would still cover him from the top of his neatly combed hair to the tips of his patent leather black shoes.

"So how can I help?"

"I know that you arrested Natalie for the death of Emmanuel."

"Yes we did. She'll be processed in the next few days."

"Well Miss Willows, I can tell you this right now. Natalie did not kill Emmanuel"

"Mr. Cooper, I'm a scientist and my job is to follow the evidence. And the evidence tells us that Natalie did indeed kill Emmanuel."

"Miss Willows, do you have children?"

"Yes a daughter"

"And you would do whatever you could to protect her?'

"Of course. Why?"

"Because I made the mistake of doing just that. Natalie and Savannah mean the world to me but there comes a point where you have to make a choice."

Isaac Cooper extracted a file from beneath his suit jacket and laid it gently on her desk.

"Natalie is innocent. She has already paid more then enough for her sister's mistakes and it's time I made it right."

Isaac Cooper pushed his chair back, nodded his head at Catherine before leaving the room. Catherine picked up the heavy file and opened it, her eyes scanning the pages quickly. As she absorbed the information before her, the blood rushed through her veins and she dialed Greg's number in an almost dreamlike state.

"Greg, come to my office please and bring Brass."

"Why?"

"Because I just found the elephant"

Catherine clicked her phone closed and laid out the entire contents of the file over her desk until every inch of the hardwood was covered. She then went over them again, this time reading in detail, trying to ignore the pulses of excitement that were zipping up and down her spine.

* * *

Savannah Thomas, despite the evidence before her, remained calm. Her father sat quietly beside her, his hands on the table in front of him. Catherine and Greg had both tried to talk to Savannah about Emmanuel's death but to no avail. Apparently, she had lost the will to speak at all and just followed them with her cold, blue eyed stare. Instead, Isaac Cooper began to tell them what had led to Emmanuel's untimely death.

"Before Natalie was born, we had a son called William. We left them with a babysitter one night when the wife and I needed some time for ourselves. When we got back, William was dead. He had been suffocated."

He glanced at his daughter, whose face never changed. She looked like a zombie. She didn't seem bothered at all by the death of her little brother.

"She got all this attention. It had been a horrible accident of course but people felt sorry for all of us. To lose a child is something that no one truly forgets. Life moved on and we had Natalie and we were a family again. Then when Savannah hit fourteen, she began to baby-sit. That's when the accidents started happening. Children started dying, getting sick for no reason. And Savannah looked after each and every single one."

"Why didn't someone report it?"

"I'm ashamed to say Miss Willows that this was my fault. I paid the families to keep their mouths closed. I wanted to protect my family."

"Savannah, do you have anything to say about this?"

The woman in question shook her head and Catherine turned back to Isaac.

"Has she been examined?"

"Apparently she suffers from Munchausen's By Proxy Syndrome"

"And that means?"

"Basically, she does all this for attention"

"Well, if you don't mind, we'll get one of our registered psychologists to talk to her. Do you have a lawyer?'

"Of course. I believe you may have heard of her on Rochelle Marr"

Catherine had heard of her, anyone in law enforcement knew who she was. If Isaac Cooper wanted his daughter to be given a fair trial, he had most certainly picked the right lawyer for the job. Despite only being in her late twenties, she had taken the legal world by storm when she had gotten a serial killer off death row and released on bail within a month of being arrested just by making her seem like a woman pushed into killing because of domestic violence. Rochelle Marr was something of a legend among criminals, unfortunately for them, she charged like one too.

"You'll be hearing from us"

"We'll be waiting"

Isaac Cooper cupped his daughters elbow and guided her out of the room.

"So who do we have on our books at the moment that can help us with this?"

"Alicia Oliver"

"Is she any good?"

"She's one of the best in her field. I'll give her a call now and see if we can go and visit her today."

Greg frowned at Catherine as gathered together their paperwork.

"Why does her name sound so familiar?"

"Because she owns the Vidorian Institution for the Criminally Insane. She's in medical magazines all the time"

"Oh yeah, now I remember. I wonder if she'll give us the grand tour"

"Did you read any of those magazine articles?"

"Sometimes, why?"

"Because Alicia Oliver doesn't let anyone beyond the north wing. The only way in is by being either an inmate lawyer or visitor and even then there are restrictions."

"That's a shame, it would have been interesting"

"Well in that case, next time you do something wrong, we'll convince Grissom you're insane and then you could get up close and personal with the other inmates."

Greg smiled as she clicked open her phone and began to dial.

* * *

If Anna Jones was pretty, Charlie Goddard was stunning. She was curvy with smooth, alabaster skin and wide blue eyes. She regarded Sara with hard eyes, her face blank. Grissom gave Charlie a small smile as he handed her a picture of the late Sophia Jones lying on Doc's table.

"Recognize Mrs. Jones?"

Charlie glanced at the picture her face didn't change as her eyes took in the distorted features.

"Yes, of course."

"And you're good friends with her daughter Anna, right?"

"Yes, we met at school"

"Where were you the night that Sophia was killed?"

"At the library studying for a biology test. Why, am I suspect?"

"I'm afraid that everybody is at this point."

Charlie's father, a short round man with a receding hairline, cleared his throat.

"Look, Mr. Grissom, my daughter had done nothing to warrant these questions."

Grissom gazed hard at the man as he spoke, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"She's a suspect in an on-going murder investigation. If she's innocent, these questions will prove it."

Fred Goddard withered under Grissom's hard glare, nudging his daughter slightly.

"Charlie, I want you to answer the questions honestly ok?"

Charlie rolled her eyes at her father before turning back to the CSI's.

"Question away"

"Are you having a sexual relationship with Anna Jones?"

"Mr. Grissom, I don't think –"

Charlie turned to her father, her face a mask of sudden anger and hatred, a change that startled Sara and the usually shakable Grissom.

"That's right father, you don't think! So shut the fuck up!"

Charlie's face changed again, back to the hard, cold mask it had been previously.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Just answer the question"

Sara could hear the impatience weaving in and out of her words but she didn't care. This case had gone too far and destroyed too many lives and she needed it to stop.

"Yes I am but I still have no idea what it has to do with anything"

"We found out that Anna's parents wanted to move to Australia. Do you know why?"

"Because Mr. Jones was offered a better job."

"Exactly. That puts you in an unfortunate position"

"Why?"

Sara leaned forward, her face only a few inches away from Charlie's.

"Because you now have a motive"

* * *

Greg hung back, allowing Catherine to take the lead, following her through the tall, dark gates that surrounded the Vidorian Institute. According to the Google search he had done on the way over, the institution used to be a hospital from the 1940's until the late 1980's, when it was closed down because of some sort of viral outbreak. It remained condemned for another fifteen years and then Alicia Oliver got a grant the historical society to use the hospital as she pleased just as long as the main foundations stayed in place. Catherine pushed open one of the large wooden doors and Greg felt the sweat evaporate off his skin as the air conditioning blasted them. The reception area was polished and clean, the carpet, which was a charcoal grey, felt thick beneath his shoes. To the left of the entrance was a painting that Greg recognized, 'The Scream by Edvard Munch. It seemed rather appropriate in a place like this. The painting on the right was one he did not recognize, with melted clocks and horses in the desert.

"The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali"

Catherine had come to stand beside him, her voice low.

"Some say he was completely insane."

"I have to agree. This is a hugely creepy painting."

Catherine smiled before turning on her heel and heading to the reception area. Greg went to follow but paused when he felt someone watching him. He turned to find his eyes connecting with a pair of hard brown ones that were attached to a large, broad shouldered man who stood silently in the corner. Greg gave the man a nervous smile before moving over to Catherine's side.

"Hi Catherine Willows and Greg Sanders to see Dr. Oliver"

The receptionist was a tall curvy blonde with neat black dress slacks and grey satin blouse that was unbuttoned just enough to revel a ruby pendant that sat in the center of her chest and a black jacket that hung over the back of her chair. Her hair was pulled back in a neat braid that ran the length of her back. The name tag on the left of her chest said her name was 'Katrina'. She clacked a few keys on her keyboard before giving them both a wide smile.

"Dr. Oliver is in the middle of her rounds at the moment but she should be finished shortly. Can I get you anything while you wait?"

Catherine gave her a quick before she shook her head.

"No, we're fine thank you"

"Ok take a seat and Dr. Oliver will be with you shortly."

"Thank you"

Catherine and Greg sat in the standard hard plastic seats that all medical places seemed to have. Greg was halfway through an article that detailed a very interesting argument of nature vs. nurture in serial killers when a dull thunking made him lift his head. Alicia Oliver, despite her small size, had an aura of power and control about her. She wore a pant suit much like Katrina's but hers was much more business like, the button done all the way to the top of her neck, a yellow silk tie tucked securely inside the jacket of her suit. Her black hair was pulled back tightly in a ponytail, her stylish black glasses securely on her nose. Her smile was cool and professional as she held out her hand.

"Hello Miss Willows, Mr. Sanders"

Her hand shake was firm and warm as she greeted them both, her cool blue eyes flashing beneath her glasses.

"Welcome to the Vidorian Institute."

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.

"Not a problem. I read the outline of the case and done some research and I must say it's one of the most interesting cases I have ever come across."

"I'm glad because we could really use your professional opinion on this."

"That's what I'm here for. Shall we go to my office? I have all my notes that I made in there."

Catherine nodded and they followed Dr. Oliver past the burly security guard and through a series of large, heavy metal security doors. They only had to walk a little way down the plain blue hall before Dr. Oliver turned left and entered her office. One large bookshelf dominated the back wall of the room, a large window to the left of the room was covered in security webbing and in the center was a large oak desk littered with files and open text books. Dr. Oliver settled herself behind her desk, sinking into the large, black, leather chair. Catherine and Greg settled themselves into the chairs across from her, watching as Dr. Oliver pressed a button on the intercom in front of her.

"Katrina, can I have some coffee in her please?"

The intercom buzzed back and Katrina's bright voice filled the room.

"Of course. Anything to eat?"

Dr. Oliver glanced at Catherine and Greg, who both shook their heads.

"Nothing to eat Katrina."

Dr. Oliver attempted to straighten her desk and Catherine found a strange comfort inn the actions, so familiar to Grissom's, even the chaos on her desk held a distinct disorder.

"So let's start at the beginning, shall we?"

"That's always a good place to start. So what can you tell us?"

"Well, Munchausen's By Proxy Syndrome has been around in the late 1970's. It's just an extension on Munchausen's Syndrome, which is when an individual fakes an illness. By adding By Proxy it means that they involve a third party."

"Baby Emmanuel"

"Exactly. It varies in severity, as with any other condition."

"What causes it?"

"A number of things. The perpetrator is often a victim of neglect and abuse themselves. They associate illness with attention."

"Savannah had a very privileged childhood."

Dr. Oliver shook her head, her face pulled into a slight frown.

"Privilege does not always guarantee happiness."

"Do you have anyone with Munchausen's here?"

"No. This facility is for the more serious criminals, mostly sexual deviants."

Dr. Oliver stood and began pacing the room slowly, her hands behind her back.

"The people that come to the Vidorian are in serious mental disarray. Society has shunned them and so they come here."

"Aren't you scared of what you see here?"

Dr. Oliver gave Greg a small smile.

"Mr. Sanders –"

"Greg."

"Greg, serial killers and rapists are a little like children and teenagers. They pack a tantrum, trying to get the attention that they want. When it fails, they get further and further off track. I fear sane people over the insane."

A knock on the door interrupted any further comment, Katrina coming into the room, a coffee tray in her hands. She quickly put the tray down before moving over to Dr. Oliver's side, a hand on her shoulder as she leaned forward to speak quietly in her ear. Even with perfect hearing and close proximity, Catherine could not hear a word that was being said. But she could tell that whatever news Katrina was passing on to her boss, it was not good. Dr. Oliver's previously relaxed posture stiffened, her jaw became clenched, her eyes narrowed and her voice was low and dark as she spoke.

"Take Wayne with you and check it out ok? And take a radio with you and stay in contact. If I haven't heard from you in fifteen minutes, I will come and find you."

Katrina gave her boss a quick smile and left the room. Dr. Oliver turned back to them, her face pulled into a wide smile.

"I'm afraid that I'm going to have to go and sort this situation out. Sorry but there never seems to be any rest for the wicked"

"You're preaching to the choir."

"I can only imagine the hard work you guys do out there"

Catherine gave her a wide smile before standing and extending her hand.

"Thank you Dr. Oliver. You don't mind us calling on you if the situation calls for it, do you?"

"I certainly hope you do. I'm sorry that this has been such a short visit but there are a few things that need to be sorted out with a few of the inmates. If I don't do it now, I won't be getting home tonight."

They both bid Dr. Oliver one last farewell before leaving her office. When they stepped back into the heat of the Vegas sun, the sweat returned to Greg's skin and he found himself desiring the comforts of the office again.

"So what now Cath?"

"We find a lawyer who is willing to go up against Rochelle Marr."

"Do you know anyone that crazy?"

Catherine gave him a small smile.

"Of course I do Greggo, it's Vegas"


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N - I know that this is an incredibly short chapter but it would not feel right to have Sara drift so deep into herself and then jump to another sequence. I am currently lacking in the reveiw department so please keep reveiwing people:)_

Chapter Six – Shadow Of The Day

Sara refused to be moved by the guilt that flowed through her, the same that had stopped her from keeping still all these years. The very same guilt that had stopped her from confronting the past. Unfortunately, every time she did try to confront the past, she could barely move, hardly breathe and her brain ran still, something that never happened to her. The sudden halt from moving and thinking to something so static shocked her but she knew that at this point, she needed it. Elizabeth's suicide and Amy's push into foster care had forced her to stand still and allow her history to finally catch her. As soon as Amy had been taken away, Sara had excused herself and told Grissom that she needed to go home for a little while, to catch up on some sleep before the case continued. The truth of the matter was much more then that. Amy had pushed so many memories wide open that Sara needed to be alone to sort something out. To sort herself out in more ways then one. She arrived home, made herself a cup of tea and sat on the sofa and began to remember. She had come home from school, some years before her father had been killed, and sat back watching as he bet her mother. This was how she thought families were, that fathers punished mothers and children for wrong doing. Her mother had taken the screams of abuse and the flying fists, curling herself into a tight ball, trying to protect her face. Sara had learnt very early on that that was her mother's priority. By protecting her face, no one would know what went on behind the Sidle's front door; nobody would know that Sara's father was nothing more then a brute that terrorized his small family, day after day, week after week. Sara's beating didn't start until she was four. She could remember it clearly because it was the one and only time that her mother ever tried to stand up for her. She had been playing outside in the rain and had gotten her boots all muddy. She had run inside, not even thinking twice about taking her boots off. Her father had been sitting at the dining room table, his normal cloud of smoke drifting over and around his head. She had come to a halt with one glance from her father, realizing that this was going to end badly. He stood, banging the table with his legs and stepped quickly towards her. He said nothing as his hand connected with her cheek, the loud crack bouncing off the walls that Sara had helped her mother paint a month earlier. She had crumpled to the floor and waited. Her father never stopped at one hit, there was always a repetition. The next hit rammed her face into the floor, and she could feel the hot pulse of blood as it made its way down to her chin. The third and final hit was a boot to her ribs and it was the one that had stolen her breath and made her heart beat harder still. Even though Sara had been silent throughout the attack, her mother must have heard her daughter's small body crumpling to the floor because she came into the kitchen and smacked her husband smartly on the back.

"Leave her be Frank! She is a child!"

He had spun around to face his wife and started hitting her. Sara watched as her mother was reduced to a bloody pulp on the floor. It was the one and only time that her mother had attempted to protect her from her father. And it was the last time that Sara had ever expected her too.

A knock on the door jolted her from her memories and her cheeks felt hot and flushed. When she put her hands against her cheeks she was surprised to find she had been crying. She quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeves before pulling open the door. Grissom was standing in her door way, a picnic basket in his hands. He smiled at her briefly before he fell in to a frown.

"What's wrong? You've been crying"

Sara gave him a slight smile.

"I'm ok, I've just been battling some demons. What's with the basket?"

She moved aside so that he could slip into her house and he laid the basket onto the table.

"I thought we could have a picnic. Unfortunately, the weather does not agree with me."

He moved one of the curtains aside and Sara could not believe just how hard the rain was coming down. It rarely ever rained in Vegas but when it did, it poured.

"Want a coffee?"

"Please."

Sara made herself busy in the kitchen, trying to drag herself from the memory bank that she had opened after such a long time. The problem with going back was that sometimes it was hard to come forward again. She took the two mugs of coffee into the living room where Grissom had made himself comfortable on the sofa. He waited until she was sitting before he asked her the question that she had known would be coming.

"What were you thinking about?"

"My father"

"Oh"

"It's amazing what you remember when you're trying to forget."

"If it's too much for you Sara, I can take you off the case. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I want to stay with it. Amy just brought about a lot of memories that I thought had vacated the premises a long time ago."

"I think you're incredibly brave."

"I'm not brave Grissom, I just can't escape my past"

"The whole idea is not to escape Sara, it's to confront it and know that it's not something to hate."

"And that's what I'm doing. Only it's not working out as well as I hoped I would."

Grissom opened his mouth to comment but Sara bet him to it, deciding that this particular topic was something that she did not want to dwell on, not in front of Grissom anyway.

"I also realized that you know more about me then I know about you."

"Oh really? So how about we remedy that? Ask me anything you want"

"Really?"

"Really. No topic is out of bounds"

Sara gave him a small smile.

"How old were you when you lost your virginity and who to?"

"I was nineteen. I lost it to one Amanda Sutherland. What about you?"

"Fifteen. I lost it to Johnny Falcon, an exchange student from Italy"

"Romantic."

"Yeah, it's really romantic to lose your virginity in the back of a car."

"So I've heard. Next question?"

"When was the first time you fell in love?"

"With Amanda. Before I could do anything about it however, she moved away. I don't think I've ever really been in love since. You?"

"I don't think I have been. Once or twice I thought I was but I don't think I have been for sure. There is a fine line between lust and love"

"Very true."

"When was the last time you made an impulse buy?"

"My oak desk. It cost almost as much as the townhouse. You?"

"My TV and DVD player when I first moved here. I brought one with me from San Francisco but I liked this one better."

"I can see why. What do you have in your CD player right now?"

"A mix CD that Greg gave me."

"So all head banging then?"

"Some of it is but other songs are really good. I thought I was meant be the one asking questions?"

"Sorry. Ask away"

"Best CD that you have ever brought?"

"A classical compilation that I brought about three years ago"

"Classical, that is hardly surprising. Favorite movie?"

"The Godfather. You?"

"The Breakfast Club. You ever seen it?"

"No"

"Well, how about we unpack the picnic and watch it?"

Grissom nodded and moved from his seat and got the basket off the table before moving back into the living room. He unpacked it silently, watching Sara closely as he did so. She was still lost in the past, he could tell by the dark haunted look in her eye, one that was not usually there. He wanted to know what she was thinking, would give anything to know what had happened to her. Maybe then he could begin to understand her a little more, to know exactly what went on in that incredible mind of hers. But there were some things that weren't meant to be shared and Grissom knew that this was one of them. Whatever Sara's father had done to her was so incredibly vile that she could not even come up with the words to describe what he had done to her. He didn't really need any kind of imagination to know that it would have been horrible for her. He also knew that whatever had happened to her made her a much better person for it.

"You have quite a spread here."

She caught his eye and glanced at the food that was now laid out on the table before them. A large bottle of ice tea, grapes, bagels, a dozen doughnuts, some cheese and a bag of chips.

"I believe that you have all the food groups here Grissom. I am quite surprised you were going to take me on a picnic."

"You needed cheering up. And considering you left before I could invite you to get something to eat, I figured I would bring it to you"

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it"

"You're welcome"

He watched again as she went and put the DVD in the player, her hair covering one side of her face. He felt a familiar tug in his stomach as she leaned over and he saw the soft skin of her lower back. She moved back to the sofa, keeping an inch or so between them as the movie began to start. They ate silently, eyes in the screen. It was a good forty-five minutes into the movie before he realized that Sara was crying. He pretended not to notice, figuring that she would be embarrassed if he stopped the movie and had to go through the entire awkward process of comforting her. But when her shoulders started heaving and her breathing became hitched, there was nothing else he could do. He reached for the remote that was in the table in front of them and hit the stop button. He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling her shaking beneath it. After a few minutes, he moved his hand to the center of her back, making small, lazy circles, doing what he could to comfort her. Eventually her crying ceased to small hiccups and only then did she turn to him.

"I'm sorry Grissom. I don't even know why I'm crying"

"It's ok Sara."

"But you made this nice picnic and then I go and ruined it!"

She broke into another round of tears and this time, Grissom didn't hesitate to pull her into a hug. She buried her face in his neck and continued to sob. She had been haunted by her demons for so long that when she finally had the courage to face them, it had all but destroyed her. She felt so raw, so sore and so ashamed that it made her feel like less then a person then anything had ever done before. Worse still, she was seeking comfort from the one person that she didn't want to know. Grissom was one person she did not want to be weak around and usually she wasn't. But every once and a while her emotions got the best of her. The second bout of tears finally stopped and she found herself unwilling to leave the safety of Grissom's arms.

"Are you ok?"

Grissom's breath stirred her hair and she could feel his pulse, strong and steady against her cheek. She pulled out of his embrace and gave him a watery smile.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry Grissom, I really am"

Grissom placed his hands on either side of her face and used his thumbs to push the last of the tears that lingered on her cheeks. He gave her a sad smile.

"It's ok Sara. It's ok"

His hands remained on her face, his thumbs now stroking her soft, flushed skin.

"Are you sure you want to stay on this case? Are you sure you want to keep going with this?"

"Yes. I need to see this through"

"That's what you said the last time I asked you that question"

"Then you'll be more then familiar with my response."

She gave him a tight smile before moving away from his gentle hands and picking up the now empty coffee cups.

"Want another coffee?"

"Yes please."

He watched her move into the kitchen and wished, not for the first time, that he had the courage to do something more then be the sympathetic friend. He wanted more then he could ask from her, desired her more that he should ever let himself allow. It was hardly surprising, all things considered. He had taught her before she had moved here and taught her even more while she worked for him. Eddie, Catherine's deceased ex-husband, had always presumed that Grissom and Catherine had something going on. It had been an almost logical assumption, they did spend more then enough time together but Grissom had no inclination towards Catherine. She was one of his closest confidante's but there was nothing there of that nature between them. They would drive each other absolutely crazy if there ever was. Sara, she was another thing entirely. Sara was……Sara. He had trouble describing her in ways that flattered her enough, in ones that could describe who she truly was. Sara was someone so special to him that he hated seeing her hurt like this but there was nothing he could do. Only Sara could battle these demons and all he could do was be there when she needed help picking up the pieces.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven – Cold Light Of Morning

Catherine peeped around the corner, doing her best to eavesdrop without looking too obvious. Dr. Oliver was working her magic on Rochelle Marr, but their voices were far too quiet for Catherine to hear. So she put into practice what Grissom had taught her over the years, watching their body language as they spoke. Rochelle Marr was beautiful, there was no doubting that. Her dead straight brown hair brushed her slim shoulders, her pretty, round face deadpan as she listened to Dr. Oliver. Her suit was an off shade of burgundy and hugged each of her soft curves, showing off her slim legs and narrow waist. She was not happy with the situation that she was faced with; Catherine didn't need Grissom to tell her that. Rochelle had her arms firmly crossed over her chest and her high-heeled foot tapped impatiently. Dr. Oliver was the absolute opposite. Her hands moved in the air as she spoke, her feet planted firmly on the floor. They spoke for another ten minutes before Rochelle moved back into the interview room with her client. Catherine slipped out from her hiding place, tapping Dr. Oliver on the shoulder. The Dr. turned, giving her a small smile.

"Miss Willow's, I suppose you heard some of that lovely exchange?"

"Call me Catherine and no I didn't. What was Rochelle so bent out of shape about?"

"I was telling her about how I wish to conduct this interview and she did not appreciate the fact that I want her client left out of the loop over what I plan to ask"

"Oh I see."

"She also resented the fact that I am not an expert on Munchausen's"

"You'll be hard pressed to find anyone who is. It's too much of a rare disorder."

"Exactly. However I've done a lot of research since you brought this case to my attention and I think I have it more then covered."

Catherine nodded before handing Dr. Oliver a thick file.

"It's the pictures that you requested as well as the medical background on Savannah herself from when she was initially diagnosed."

Dr. Oliver took the file and skimmed through it briefly, her blue eyes shifting back and forth behind her glasses.

"Thank you Catherine, this is exactly what I needed. Is Laura Barnes going to be here for the interview?"

"She'll be here shortly. Do you want me to tell you when she comes?"

"No, I'll talk to her when I've finished with Savannah. If I'm interrupted, it'll give her time to think of answers she didn't have before we started."

"Ok then, let's get started."

Catherine slipped into the listening booth that sat next to the interview room, watching as Dr. Oliver worked silently. First she silently placed pictures in front of Savannah. Pictures that documented Emmanuel's short life, the one's that came from his autopsy and the others that showed pictures of those that had been hurt and killed by Savannah previously. She then sat down; her hands flat on the table, her voice smooth, slow and steady as she finally began to speak.

"How old were you when William died?"

Savannah didn't even look at the pictures, her eyes locking onto Dr. Oliver's.

"I was seven"

"Do you remember how it happened?"

"Yes"

"Care to tell me?"

"He suffocated"

"How?"

Savannah scowled.

"I'm sure you've read the report and anything else that you need, so why should I tell you?"

"I have read the reports but I want to hear it from you"

Savannah sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"He rolled over and suffocated on his blankets"

"Did you used to hold him a lot?"

"A little, yes"

"So you loved him?"

"As much as a older sibling can love a younger."

"Did you enjoy holding him?"

"Yes. I used to pretend her was my doll"

"Is that why you shook him?"

"What?"

"Your father managed to silence many people, including the coroner who preformed the autopsy on your brother. He had a broken neck and all the classic signs of shaken baby syndrome."

Savannah's face moved from one of confusion, to a soft almost innocent look.

"He was crying so much."

"So what did you do?"

"Jiggled him like my father did. He finally stopped and I put him back into bed."

"But you bounced him too hard didn't you?"

"No I didn't. He went back to sleep. I didn't hurt him. Someone else did"

"What about little Emmanuel?"

"My son was killed by his aunt."

Catherine's beeper went off at that point and she slipped from the room, her head spinning. The cold, careless way that Savannah discussed her brother's death was terrifying.

"Catherine, how are you?"

Laura Barnes pulled Catherine into a quick hug, her face spread in a wide smile. Catherine had run into Laura plenty of times in the last few years and they occasionally caught up for coffee or dinner. Laura was the opposite of the slick, sophisticated Rochelle Marr. She was a fantastic lawyer but she also had a family and kept them as her top priority. She did heaps of pro bono work, helping those without much money in getting homes and parents in need of child support from a runaway spouse.

"Hey Laura, how are the kids and that fantastic husband of yours?"

Laura smoothed out her suit with well manicured hands.

"Bruce is fine. He's gotten a much better paying job at the new firm downtown. He's got a new Lexus and a $150,000 a year increase. Plus he gets incredible benefits that cover him as well as the kids and I"

"Wow! Nice job then?"

"He loves it! He comes home at dinner time and has time in the mornings to have breakfast with the kids, which is what he was most concerned about. He thought that his new job would take him away from home completely."

"That's great. And the kids?"

"Stella just got into the cheerleading squad, Lacey has her first boyfriend and Max has just started school. It's all go"

Catherine and Laura continued to chat as they walked down the hall and into an empty interview room.

"So what do you know about this case Laura?"

"I spent all week researching and investigating the entire case."

"So you're ready to file if Dr. Oliver decides she's faking?"

"More then ready"

Laura took off her suit jacket and Catherine realized for the first time that her friend had lost a lot of weight since she had last seen her, not that Laura had ever been big to begin with, but over the last few months, she had been dropping the weight that she had put on when she was pregnant with Max.

"You are looking good girl"

"Thank you! You don't look have bad yourself"

Catherine smiled before sitting down across from Laura and laying out the files that she had with her.

"I have come across one huge issue Cath"

"What?"

"There are only four hundred noted cases in total for Munchausen's. Considering those numbers, proving it is actual actual disorder may prove difficult."

"So what are our legal options?"

"Jail time or institutionalization"

Catherine sighed heavily.

"I don't see daddy wanting her to do jail time. If he can keep a whole town quiet as well as a coroner, I don't see him having any trouble keeping her from jail"

"I figured as much. I rung around and managed to track down a place in Canada for people like Savannah. They research disorders that are unrecognized by courts and society in general"

"Like the Vidorian Institute? All padded walls, controversial practices and doped up patients?"

"Not quite. They observe their patients. She will become a part of an ongoing experiment. I rung the institute and explained the situation. A case like Savannah Cooper's could bust Munchausen's wide open."

"As much as I want her to serve time for what she has done, how does advertising a disorder like this help? Lawyers are going to jump all over this as a way to defend their clients when they hurt their children out of nothing but malice"

"Some could be said about the baby blues. If someone had not drawn attention to that, what would happen to all the young mothers out there who have issues?"

"In a much worse state"

"Exactly. It needs to start somewhere and Savannah may be that starting point."

"What kind of time will she get for this?"

"Jail, 10-15 years, and as for the institute she may be looking at life. Another thing I learned was that people who suffer from Munchausen's are in serious denial about their actions. She will never admit to what she has done"

"This means that she's going away for a long time, regardless."

"Which is what we want"

"What about if she has more kids?"

"The court will take them away"

Catherine gnawed the inside of her cheek as she thought. It was a horrible habit she slipped into every once and awhile. If she was confused or seriously annoyed. This time, she was a little of both.

"So tell me about this place in Canada"

Laura smiled as she handed Catherine another file.

"It's called The Maccrae Institute. They have some of the most amazing cases there. Including one that you should be familiar with."

"And that would be?"

"Prada-Willi Syndrome"

"Oh yeah, the uncontrollable urge to eat. What else?"

"Pica syndrome which is when the sufferer has urges to eat things that are not food, like saw dust, paint chips and paper. Ortharexia nervosa, which is when the person wants only pure foods. They even have a couple of girls there who killed their parents while they were sleep walking"

"I thought the sleep walking thing was finally recognized?"

"By jurors but not by the court. Trials have been dismissed because the jurors have believed them but if it was to come before a judge, they would charge them properly with murder."

"Which is what will happen with Savannah"

"If Dr. Oliver can truly determine that she does indeed prove that Savannah suffers from Munchausen's, I will put forward an offer she can not refuse"

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because despite how brilliant Rochelle Marr thinks she is, all the jury will see is a dead baby and the children that proceeded him. Emmanuel is the key to locking his mother up"

"We just need to wait and see what Dr. Oliver says after the interview. Munchausen's or no Munchausen's , Savannah is going to pay for what she did to her son"

* * *

Sara kept the search warrant in her hand, not daring to put it on her pocket. She remained silent as Grissom drove, the excitement bubbling in her veins. This is exactly what they had needed to finally get a warrant for Charlie Goddard's home, a way to find the evidence that would link her to Sophia Jones death. Then there were the long standing consequences for Amy. She was shuttled into foster care because of this and Sara felt the horrible, distinct urge for revenge. She didn't normally feel this way about a case, usually it was the need for justice that drove her, nothing else. This was different though. Perhaps she felt too much about Amy, perhaps Grissom had been right in trying to pull her off the case. Either way, she needed this. So much so that it sat heavy on the back of her throat and it had the same sweet-sour tang that blood had when a scene was loaded with it, the molecules floating through the air.

"Sara, you ok?"

"Fine."

"You sure"

Sara looked over at him, doing her best to glare but she just couldn't. He was being so nice and gentle with her, treating her like a china doll. She may not need that kind of concern, she may not deserve it but Grissom was still offering it.

"Grissom, if there was a problem I would tell you"

"No you wouldn't."

Sara could not help herself, she began to laugh. It was completely true, not even remotely funny, but she laughed anyway. And it was a nice difference to the seriously grey cloud that had been hanging over her lately. After the laughter had finally stopped, she felt lighter.

"You have a nice laugh. It's a shame that you don't do it more often"

Sara turned in her seat slightly, focusing on his profile.

"Tell you what, after this case is over and done with we go to a movie marathon that I've been wanting to see. Then you'll see me laugh"

"What movie marathon is that?"

"Jim Carrey"

Grissom didn't like Jim Carrey but there was no way in the world that he was going to say no. An offer to sit in the dark with Sara, sharing popcorn and watching her laugh, that was an offer he was not about to argue against.

"Sounds like fun. When the case is over right?"

"Only when the case is over. That way I'll have a reason to laugh"

Grissom would have offered her a smile but a small frown had settled on her face and so he kept his smile to himself and concentrated on his driving. Sara didn't speak again until they had pulled up the drive. They got out of the car and collected their kits from the back and headed towards the house. Sara exchanged a glance with Charlie as they walked past her and her father. They had been shuttled outside by Brass and a couple of uniforms, and Charlie was acting as if this was no big deal. She had her iPod on, her foot tapping to the music that she was listening to. Sara shook it off and continued her stride up the path and into the house.

"I'll take her room"

"Ok. When you're done with that, do the rest of the second floor and I'll do the lower"

"Ok"

Sara headed upstairs and began walking down the hall, glancing into each room as she passed. Bathroom, master suite and finally Charlie's room. It was not what she expected it to be. For one, there was an awful lot of pink and for two it was one of the neatest rooms she had ever seen. She slipped on her gloves, placing her case at the doorway. After two hours, there was nothing to be found. No drugs, no cigarettes. Nothing out of the ordinary. That was until she saw the small white corner poking out of a small picture frame. The original picture was that of a small, fluffy Siamese kitten. She removed the back of the frame and slipped the pictures out, examining the carefully. The Siamese kitten one was completely innocent, it was the one behind it that caught her attention. The shots were those that you get from a photo booth and the focus was on Anna and Charlie. They were kissing and cuddling the way that any couple would. Except that both girls were covered in what appeared to be blood. There was no date one the pictures, just some scrawl on the back that said "_The best day in the world. Charlie and Anna 4eva"._ Sara bagged it carefully, a small smile on her face. This could be it. They needed more but this could be enough to bring them in for questioning. She moved from the room and moved down the hall, back-tracking to the master suite. Nothing there. She moved to the final rooms in the upstairs, the bathroom and laundry room. It was when she opened the dryer that she finally hit pay dirt. The stockings laid at the bottom of the dryer, stretched and distorted. First thing she thought was that it was a little odd that someone would put stockings in the drier, the next was that they were awfully battered just for being in the dryer. She bagged those carefully, a small smile on her face.

Sara made sure that Grissom was well to the side before she started swinging. She repeatedly brought the brick on the top of the blood-filled dummies head, ignoring the blood that splattered her face and scrubs. She continued to swing, counting the strokes silently until she reached ten, only then did she stop. The single brick was surprisingly heavy and her arms thumped with the strain of swinging it repeatedly. She placed the stoking clothed brick on the table and took out the brick, placing the stockings beneath the microscope. They were distorted in the same way as the one's that they had found in the Goddard drier. The evidence was flimsy at best but they could stretch it to the best of their abilities until one of the girls cracked. Then the game would be up, justice would be served and she could finally shake the horrible feeling that had been chasing her for the last few weeks. Grissom moved closer to her, a small smile on his face.

"Did we get them?"

Sara raised her head and whipped out a smile.

"We got them"


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N - So here it is, the last chapter of the story. I noticed a trend and for that I want to apologize. I do not mean to write so many sex scenes (The last three I bleieve have been filled with my bad imagination), they just seem to end up that way. Ask my flatmates, they all hear the swearing as I yell "I wrote myself into another sex scene!" So please continue to read and reveiw. I hope that I gave the conclusion that would satisfy all of my fussy readers! So reveiw and tell me what you think!_

Chapter Eight – Bulletproof Cupid

Charlie didn't seem overly concerned with the events that followed the search of her house. She remained silent as Brass took her away, her iPod still in her ears. Sara and Grissom got back into the truck and headed to HQ where they waited in impatient silence for Brass page. He had to pick up Anna Jones as well and Sara had never wanted her pager to gone off so badly. She fidgeted and paced, feeling as if she was moments away from leaping out of her skin. When her pager finally did go off, she had to hold herself back from running down to the interview rooms, settling for the fast walking pace that Grissom set for himself. She sat beside him in the interview room and made a decision not to partake in any conversation with the girl. It aggravated her just how casual Charlie was with the entire situation. She had taken a life, and for what? Puppy love?

"So why did you do it?"

Charlie looked Grissom over, her pretty eyes narrowed.

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Yes"

"Then you know how horrible it would be if that person was taken away from you. I cannot live without Anna and she cannot live without me. So we had to rid of Sophia so that we could be together forever."

"You know that you did more then that right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Sophia's dead, Elizabeth killed herself and Amy is in foster care. Do you not care that what you did had serious consequences?"

Charlie's face remained stonily calm.

"It does not matter. Anna didn't move and we can be together now"

This time Sara did speak.

"Except you can't. You killed someone; you are going to jail, two separate jails, for a very long time. I doubt you'll see Anna again before you're thirty-five"

"My dad will get a lawyer that will get us into the some prison"

Sara gave the girl a small smile.

"Good luck with that"

Sara moved out of the room, blood rushing through her veins. When they were back in Grissom's office, her serious disposition dissolved and she found herself letting out a little cheer. Grissom looked shocked and Sara gave him a wide smile before pulling him into a happy hug. It took a mere second for her to realize that it was a mistake. He tensed when her body hit his, his arms remaining by his sides. She instantly released him.

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away."

"It's ok Sara, I just got a bit of a fright, that's all."

Sara, despite the happy news, still could not sit still. She waved off Grissom's offer of coffee and headed home. Now that the case was closed she could relax and try to forget that the last few weeks had happened at all. She had called the family that had been fostering Amy and talked to the parents as well as Amy herself and she sounded happy. Brass had handpicked the Harrington's himself as a favour to Sara and they sounded like the kind of place Sara wished that she had fallen into. It was too late for that now but Amy still had a chance. Fortunately, Sara was too stubborn to let the little girl fall through that cracks and had made a promise to herself that she was going to visit at the end of the month, just to make sure that things were as good as they sounded. She had to leave it until then because it took almost that long to adjust to the new life and Amy didn't need anymore interruptions. Still feeling incredibly restless, Sara changed into a pair of grey sweats, a Nike T-shirt and sneakers, put on her iPod and headed out the door. As she ran, she paid no attention to where she was going, letting her feet go their own way, focusing instead on what the end of this case meant; the movies with Grissom. Her invite had not been intentional and even when she had asked; it was partly out of jest. She didn't think that he saw anything that was in color, let alone anything as dirty humored as Jim Carrey movies. She didn't really see him appreciating the pure laugh factor in a perfectly timed fart and terribly rude joke. Greg was the kind of guy that you would take, one that would laugh along with you. If she was honest with herself she could properly say that she was worried what he would think of her knowing that she found these kinds of thoughtless movies appealing. Sara liked other movies too but there was nothing funnier then a stupid comedy that didn't make you think. It relaxed her, not having to analyze every detail just to know the ending. One of the best things about them was that you could leave halfway through to go to the bathroom or get more popcorn and when you returned, you didn't need to know anything to keep following the plat. The stayed on the same solid course each and every time. To top it all off she had to hug him. What made her do that? She had never done that before and suddenly when a case gets too much for hr, she gets all touchy feely with the one person that should be that last person she does that with? What was with her lately? Sara allowed her mind to become blissfully blank, finding solace in the fact that for now, she didn't need to think. She focused on the beat of her footsteps and the best of her heart that seemed to match the beat that was flowing from her iPod. For now, she could concentrate one getting rid of her nervous energy.

* * *

Dr. Andrew Scott looked nothing like Catherine had pictured him to be. For one, he looked far too young. For another, his face was smooth and line free, despite the thirty-one years that he claimed to be. All in all, he was the face that she had never associated doctors to be. He gave Catherine a warm smile and her hand a firm shake before taking a seat across from her.

"So Catherine, tell me about this case?"

"What don't you know? I know that you got a call from Laura Barnes earlier outlining the details."

"Did Dr. Oliver come to any conclusion?"

"In her professional opinion, Savannah Cooper does have Munchausen's. Unfortunately, there is not much to go on with so few cases to refer to"

Dr. Scott gave her a wide smile.

"You would not believe how many times I have heard that before. So has she signed the forms that I faxed over?"

"She's doing it now. How do you decide how long she will be there for?"

"Well, we will keep her there for a year at first. We do some experiments, closely monitor her in a social environment and see if we can get some sort of reaction from her in regards to her son, brother and the others that she has killed. If we are unable to fit her with some drugs and some sort of diagnosis, we keep her for another year. Even if she gets released, she will still be closely monitored by members of our staff that work outside of the Mccrae institute."

"So what's the maximum stay there?"

Dr. Scott rubbed the smart looking stubble that rested on his chin.

"When my grand father started the institute, the longest he ever had a patient there was ten years. My father was a max of twenty years but society has changed and so I have had to adjust my work to fit the needs of the new disorders that follow. I suppose Laura told you about those girls who killed their parents when they sleepwalked?"

"Yes."

"I honestly don't think they will ever be truly free. For one, it is hard to find drugs that ease a troubled mind long term. For a brief while there, we thought we had it. The girls were sleeping soundly with no issues. But a month on the drugs and they began hurting themselves in their sleeps. Cutting, biting and tearing at their skin."

"I have never heard of a case like theirs before. How did they both manage to sleepwalk at the same time?"

"Oh, they're twins. Their minds work on the same level, so basically, what one does the other repeats. We're trying them on another drug at the moment but this one makes them very violent in their waking hours."

"Must be frustrating?"

"Oh it is. But they could be in jail somewhere, feeling completely alone. At least if they had to be closed up, it's with people who have disorders that no one else fully understands. We offer them a chance at a better life if we can find the reason that they act the way they do"

"So you watch them, do case studies and then present what you have to the courts?"

"Yup. It can take up to three years before we can do anything but it's worth it when we make a huge discoveries."

Catherine and Andrew chatted a little longer before Dr. Scott headed back out of the lab, he needed to prepare for Savannah's arrival. It's not very often that a case was closed quite so efficiently and with very little fuss. It was a victory but for some reason, it was a hollow one. Emmanuel was still dead, as were the dozen or so children that had been hurt and killed by Savannah and somehow putting her in a care facility didn't feel as good as putting her in jail. After all, Catherine had been trained that all bad guys were just that, bad. It was only in the last decade that killers and their lawyers were coming up with more and mire elaborate ways of keeping their clients out of jail. More and more disorders were being recognized and changing that face of the legal system, making it one that Catherine could barely understand. She wondered, not for the first time, how long it would be before a disorder could be found for every single action that a criminal decided upon. Hopefully, she would not be around to see that sad destruction of the legal system that she used to understand and respect.

* * *

This was not a date. There was no reason for her to be this nervous, no reason at all. So why was her heart racing, ants under her skin and an indescribable urge to get dressed up? Sara resisted it, focusing instead in finding clothes that didn't show how nervous she was. She chose an apricot camisole, a pair of soft blue jeans, black boots and a light black jacket. She ran a comb through her hair, resisting the urge to run her straightner over the soft curls that were beginning at the ends. She hated it when her hair curled, it made her look like a poor version of Goldilocks.

Grissom arrived at precisely eight-fifteen, dressed just as casually as Sara was in jeans and a soft button down shirt.

"Ready to go?"

"Yup"

They drove in silence for a little while before Grissom spoke.

"I have a question for you"

"And that would be?"

"What did you do on your sixteenth birthday?"

Sara shook her head as she began to remember. She had been placed in a new foster home and her birthday had slipped by unnoticed. It hadn't been the first birthday she had missed and it wasn't her last. And because she was hardly Miss. Popularity, she had no friends to help her celebrate. She had spent the day in the library, pretending that it didn't matter. But it did and it hurt her more then she could ever say.

"I didn't do anything. I had been placed in a new foster home and it came and went without any comment"

"Really. Another sad chapter in the early years of Sara Sidle"

Grissom said nothing as he parked the car in the movie lot. He turned off the engine and then turned to Sara.

"I know that this does not make anything that happened to you any better but I know something that you seem to have forgotten."

"What's that?"

"You are an incredible person. What makes you so different, makes you beautiful. Even if you don't see it, I do."

Sara swallowed the lump in her throat and waited for Grissom to turn away, to end the moment with an awkward comment. But he didn't. He continued to look at her, shadows making new crevices and shallows on his face. He reached over and laid a hand on her cheek, his finger stroking her ear lobe gently. His hand moved back even further, getting lost in her hair, stroking the soft skin on the back of her neck. He pulled her towards him, guiding her lips to his. His kiss was soft and sweet, he pulled back quickly, looking at her, trying to find anything that would make her doubt this situation. His breath was hot and heavy against her face as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Grissom, we had better get inside."

He gave her one last kiss, tasting her lip gloss before he pulled back. As they walked into the movie theatre, he took a risk and wrapped his hand around hers, loving the feeling of her palm pressed against his. She gave him a small smile as she squeezed his hand in hers. He waved her off when she tried to pay for the tickets, doing the same when he paid for the popcorn, sodas and M&M's. Now it felt like a date to Sara. She would never have gotten away with paying for nothing if she had gone out with Greg, Warrick or Nick. His refusing to go Dutch proved what she had been worried about all along. Their friendship had moved onto something else and Sara couldn't even remember when the slight changed had occurred. Could it have been that night that she had broke down in front of him? When he had stroked her face, was that when it had become something more? Either way, the Jim Carrey marathon went out the window, because for the life of her, Sara could not concentrate. She kept taking side glances to Grissom, watching him as he watched the movie, apparently enjoying it. She had never seen him laugh so much in one sitting. Halfway through the third movie, _Liar Liar_, Grissom took her hand again, pressing her knuckles against his lips, sending shivers down her spine. Her hand stayed in his after the movies were over and it remained there as they walked back to the car. He opened the door for her but before she could slip in, he pulled her into another kiss. This time it was hard, not soft as it had been the first time, it was demand, a promise yet to be kept. This one she was a little more prepared for, she pressed her body into his, running her fingers over his hair and down his back. Her hands went under his shirt, touching the soft planes of his back, feeling his muscles bunch and move beneath her hands. He captured her hands in his, pulling away from her.

"This is too fast. Even for us."

She tried to catch her breath, her hands on his chest.

"Sorry"

He kissed her again.

"Don't be. How about we get a coffee?"

With a audacity that didn't belong to her, she stepped closer to him, her hands moving to sit on his hips, her thumbs finding the loops in his jeans.

"Your place or mine?"

Grissom did the same to her, angling her hips to his.

"Yours is closer."

Sara smiled at him, kissing a trail down his neck, breathing in his soapy, clean scent. He pushed her away again.

"You keep doing that and we won't make it to your house."

"I should get into the car then"

"You should get into the car"

They drove back to Sara's house in silence, his hand on the inside of her thigh, making small circles down to her knee and back up again. She could not breathe, she could not concentrate, could not make sense of the situation. When they finally arrived at the front of her house, something stopped her from moving from the car. She wanted this, she really did but she had her reservations and normal or not, they were stopping her from doing what she wanted.

"Grissom?"

"Yes?"

"Should we really do this?"

Grissom gave her a soft smile as he turned to her.

"I thought I was meant to be the one to have doubts and concerns?"

Sara took his hand off her knee and entwined his hand with hers.

"I'm not doubting this, I just don't know if this is what we should be doing"

Grissom sighed and pressed the back of his head against his seat.

"Do you know how long it's taken me to work up the courage to kiss you the way I did tonight?"

"Years."

"Exactly. I want this Sara but I want you to want it as well. I have no idea what will happen after this but I'm sick of living day by day and it's about time I did something for myself. I understand if you want to wait, to be able to think about what you want to do but don't think too hard though. You'll end up like me"

"How about we go upstairs, have a coffee and see what happens?"

"Sounds good"

Grissom slipped out of the car and opened her door, following her upstairs to her apartment. He watched her as she switched on the lights and headed into the kitchen to make the coffee. He continued to watch as she reached up and took the mugs from the upper cupboard, her shirt riding up a few inches, exposing smooth, white skin. He admired the sway of her hips as she moved from one side of the bench to the other, her jeans clinging to her hips and thighs in a way that drove him crazy. Too many nights he had dreams of her, kissing her and touching her without fear of punishment or rejection. This situation was new to him but he liked the way that it felt, scary and exciting all at the same time.

"Coffee as requested."

She placed the large mug in front of him, her hand resting on his wrist for a moment before moving away. They sipped their drinks in silence, the sexual tension building slowly but surely, filling every little corner of the apartment. By the time Sara finished her coffee, she knew what she wanted to do and it had nothing to do with letting this moment slip by unnoticed. She moved from her seat and straddled Grissom's lap, pressing her lips against his. Grissom didn't question, he just embraced the moment and went with it. He pulled Sara as close as possible but it was not enough. He wanted to feel her skin against his, he wanted to posses her. He pulled off her shirt, kissing the exposed skin before his fingers worked on the clasp on her bra, kissing and caressing her pale breasts. She moaned and tugged at his shirt, touching him anywhere she could reach. Grissom kept kissing her as he lifted her up, pressing her against him as he carried her into her bedroom. He placed her on the bed, pausing to look at her and truly take in what was about to happen to them. She smiled at him as she tugged at his pants, popping open the top button and undoing the zip, releasing him from his tight prison. She pushed them down and they were followed quickly by his underwear so that he was standing naked before her. The years had been kind to Grissom. He had not expanded as many men his age had. His waist was still narrow, his chest broad and almost hairless, a small path of it leading to his erection. He may not be as well built as a man half his age but he was still something to admire and seeing him naked and knowing what she was going to do took Sara's breathe away. He leaned over her and kissed her again, his tongue battling with hers, exploring every crevice of her mouth. She laid back and allowed him to undo her pants, lifting her hips as he pulled them off with her underwear, depositing them beside him on the floor. He kissed his way back up her legs, pausing when he finally got to the one and only place she wanted him to touch. He gave her a devilish smile as he stroked the inside of her thigh before slipping his hand between her legs, making her scream. He withdrew his hand and worked his way back up her body, swirling his tongue over her stomach before doing the same to her nipples, tugging them gently between his teeth. Sara felt like she was going to explode, the tension building up in her body, washing over her in a hot wave of passion and desire. He was kissing her again, his hand stroking her hips, curving around to cup her rear end, angling her so that every time she moved, she could feel his erection teasing her, brushing the inside of her thigh. Grissom surprised her with his talent when he managed to put on a condom while kissing her, his eyes never opening at any point. He continued to stroke her with crafty fingers as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her body falling into shock when he finally entered her. He filled her so completely, it felt like she didn't belong to herself anymore. She belonged to him. He whispered her name over and over as he moved and she his as they built up a rhythm, their hands in a tight embrace above her head. She felt it build, the promise of nirvana just beyond her reach, waiting for Grissom before she tumbled over the edge. She came first, screaming out his name, it fell from her lips over and over again as lights exploded around her, the world brighter then it ever had been before. Grissom found his release seconds later, his mouth pressed against her neck, nipping at the skin, her name whispered again and again in her ear. He rested on her for a few moments, his weight supported by his elbows before he sunk into the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms, curling his body around hers. Sara could still feel her heart pounding hard in her chest as she fell asleep, Grissom's beating just as hard against her back.

* * *

When she woke up, it was still dark outside and she was surprised to see that only a few hours had slipped away. Grissom wasn't in the bed beside her and she hated the sinking sensation that enveloped her, filling her with doubt. She shook it off, pulling on her bathrobe and heading into the kitchen driven completely by her need for caffeine. What she saw was the last thing she expected. Grissom was sitting at the dining room table, sipping at a coffee, a cake sitting in front of him.

"Hey sleeping beauty."

He stood and kissed her before gently pushing her into a chair. Sara studied the cake frowning.

"What's this for?"

"Count the candles"

"There's sixteen"

"Happy 16th birthday Sara. I know I'm a little late but better late then never right?"

"You brought me a birthday cake?"

"Nobody deserves to miss their 16th birthday Sara."

Sara started to cry. Nobody had done anything like this for her and it meant so much more that it was coming from Grissom. He moved over the cake, lighting the soft pink candles. He moved back to Sara, wrapping his arms around her as he softly sung happy birthday to her. When he was finished he picked up the knife and placed it in her hand.

"Cut the cake birthday girl."

She cut the cake as he poured her a cup of coffee, taking a seat beside her. They ate the sweet cake quietly and when they were done Grissom pulled out a large box.

"Happy birthday"

Sara undid the bright red ribbon before pulling off the blue wrapping paper and taking the lid off the plain blue box. Tucked inside were objects from her childhood, all the things that other kids got but she never did. A rubix cube, a bright pink yoyo, a slinkee, a magic eight ball and battered copy of Brothers Grimm stories. These were things that she had dreamed of having, the very things that had separated her from the other kids her age. Grissom, for all intents and purposes, had handed her back her childhood. She touched each item carefully, wondering how in the world he had known what to get her.

"Grissom, I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything"

Sara wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. How could the one person who claimed to not know her at all, know so much about her? How could the one person in this word that she pushed herself away from get so close without her ever realizing it? Her heart was breaking because she was hurt but because she had never seen Grissom for what he was. The person she saw at work was nothing compared to the person that she had in her arms, the one that had made love to her just a few hours previously. The person that had brought her a 16th birthday cake and presents that he would never know meant so much more to her then anything else in the world.

"I'm sorry Grissom"

Grissom pulled back from her embrace, his face tugged into a frown.

"What in the world do you need to apologize for?"

Sara stroked his face.

"For not seeing you. You've done more for me in the last few years then anyone has ever done in my entire life. I'm sorry for not seeing that"

Grissom smiled softly as he brushed back her hair.

"Don't be sorry."

Grissom kissed her deeply, his hands quickly undoing her robe, letting it drop to the floor, exposing her body to his hungry hands again. His hands traced her spine, working his way to the back of her neck.

"Did I ever tell you that you are the most beautiful woman in the world?"

"Not yet"

"Well you are. You make me feel things I thought I would never feel again"

Sara could not answer him, she was too focused on what his fingers were doing to her body. She leaned her head against his chest, barely breathing as his hands manipulated her into torturous bliss.

"Grissom….in the nature…of honesty….let me tell you something"

"And that would be?"

"I've always….liked… you"

Sara would have laughed at just how breathless she sounded except that she had no air in her to laugh and it was Grissom who was doing it to her. Grissom kept his hands busy as he continued to talk to her.

"Really?"

"Really……you……know…why…I..moved…here"

"Because of me?"

"Because…..of…..you"

"And how much do you like me?"

Sara could feel herself reaching the brink again, a place where anything could happen. His hand kept up the steady rhythm and it drove her crazy. How could she make sense out of anything when he was doing that too her?

"A lot….please….make….love…to…me already"

Grissom stopped torturing her and did as she requested, pushing her against the wall, her legs coming to wrap around his waist. They both moaned when he finally sunk into her and in a matter of seconds, they had both reached nirvana, their faces buried in each other's necks, their names repeated on each other's lips.

* * *

It was a month of hard work trying to keep things quiet about her and Grissom, but Sara managed to keep her happiness in check, resisting the urge to kiss him in the office, saving it for when they went home together. For the first two weeks of their times together, they rarely left the bed and when they did, it was only to have sex in different areas of the house. Unfortunately, some things she could not forget, despite her new found happiness. She could not, would not forget the promise she had made herself to check up on Amy. One Monday, when she had the day off and Grissom was working, she called in a favour with Brass and got the address for the Harrington's who lived on the outskirts of Vegas. She had called ahead, wanting to make sure that her arrival would not disturb anyone and to make sure that Amy would be ok with her visit. Sara enjoyed the hour long drive, it gave her time to gather her thoughts together. She had no idea what she and Grissom were now. Surprisingly enough, it was easy for them to slip in the routine of almost living together but Sara still felt uneasy about not knowing where it was going or where they were going to be from one day to the next. She liked Grissom, maybe even loved him, but if this was going to work, she needed something much more then great sex. She wanted a relationship, a proper one. They hadn't broached that subject yet and the whole thing felt far too new to go anywhere near it but one day they would need to and that's what scared her. Not knowing.

The Harrington house was big and very beautiful, it was the kind of place that Sara had always wished she could live, even now, years after all the darkness in her life had faded. Sara got out of her car and made her way up the path and into the front yard which was surround with a white picket fence. The front lawn was littered with bikes, a couple of skateboards and a shallow paddling pool. She rang the doorbell and smiled as she heard several sets of feet and voices head towards the door. A small blonde boy pulled open the door. Sara crouched down so that she was face to face with boy.

"Hi. My name is Sara, what's yours?"

"Troy."

"Hi Troy. Is your mom here?"

Troy shook his head hard, shuffling his hair loose from the neat comb back.

"My mom died when I was born. Fiona's here though"

"Ok then. Do you think you could get her for me?"

Troy nodded and went running, his voice at the top of his lungs as he screamed his way deeper into the house. Moments later, Fiona Harrington came to the door, a small line of kids following her.

"Sara Sidle?"

"Yup that's me. You must be Fiona"

"The one and only. Come on in, I've got some iced tea if you're interested."

"Yes please. It was a long drive."

Fiona ushered Sara inside and she found herself in the perfect house. The walls were hard wood but they kept the house pleasantly warm and Sara could smell the fresh baked bread and cookies that Fiona had been making earlier. Fiona turned to a little red headed girl who was following her every move with wide blue eyes.

"Susannah, can you go and get BB for me?"

"K"

The little girl ran off and Fiona set about pouring Sara drink, filling a plate with a few cookies before taking a seat beside her.

"Who's BB?"

Fiona let out a light laugh.

"That's Amy. She developed a fascination with the bumble bees that gather in out garden and so we've given her the nickname BB."

"Has she been stung?"

"A few times. It doesn't seem to bother her and since she's not allergic and she's happy, then who am I to try and stop her?"

"Fair enough. Is she ok? I mean is she happy?"

Fiona shrugged as she sipped her tea.

"I suppose that depends on you definition of happy. She's doing fine in school, has made firm friends with a few girls here as well as a couple who live up the road but she has trouble forgetting her previous life. It does not help that her dad will not stay out of the picture."

"So he's not listening to the court order? You could call the police on him for that"

"Unfortunately, the court order does not cover her school. Peter, he's my husband, and I had to host a big meeting here with all the teachers from her school, letting them know that under no circumstances was she to go near him or with him. We haven't had any new issues with him yet but he's a stubborn guy, he'll be back"

"Other then that, is she ok?"

"Considering what happened to her, she's doing great."

"Good."

Just then Amy came running into the house, a jar clutched firmly in her hand. She jumped onto Fiona's lap. Waving the jar in her face.

"Look Fiona, I caught to more! That one is Bertie and the other one Frank"

"How in the world can you tell them apart BB?"

"Cause their like zebra's. They may all look the same but they are all quite different"

"You are too smart for your own good young lady. Now be polite and say hello to your guest."

Amy turned to Sara, noticing for the first time that she was there. Amy broke into a bright smile and slipped from Fiona's lap, climbing onto Sara's.

"I remember you. You were the pretty lady who looked after me."

"Yes I was. My name is Sara."

"I know. I named one of my bees after you. She was naughty and fought with the boys in her hive."

"Maybe she was the queen bee"

"Maybe. I'm doing a project on them for school. Everyone else is doing things like dogs and cats but that's boring. Bees are so much more interesting"

"Do you remember that other man who looked after you?"

"The one with funny name?"

"Yes that's Grissom. He loves bees as well. In fact he's a big fan of all bugs."

"That's cool"

"How many times have you been stung Amy?"

"Nine. I counted them. It was when I first got here and they didn't know me. But now they do and they're not afraid of me anymore."

Fiona leaned forward and pushed Amy's long brown hair out of her eyes.

"BB, why don't you show Sara where the hive is? Sara you're not allergic are you?"

"Nope"

"Good. I have a new plant for them ok BB? You can plant it for them so that they have even more pollen for their hive"

"K. Can I take some bread for the ducks too?"

"Of course honey. Get the stale loaf from the bread bin and go and see if any of the others want to go with you"

"K"

Amy slipped off Sara's lap and went running upstairs. Sara watched her go before turning back to Fiona.

"She looks happy."

"She found it hard when she first got here. She used to ask me if she could do everything, even going to the bathroom. All the choices that she had to make caused her to have panic attacks."

"God, panic attacks at nine years old? That is not right"

"Tell me about it. She moved from that after a few weeks thank god. I had to sit her down and explain that she only had to ask me for permission for the important things. Like going to the pond or visiting her bees. She's a lot more relaxed then when she first arrived."

"Good. She needed that. Her father had far too much control over her and her sister."

"She still dreams about Elizabeth though. We organized some therapy for her through that nice detective Jim Brass. It helps her and she stopped having the nightmares."

"I hope that you don't think that I'm invading your privacy by visiting. I just know how it feels when you first go into foster care, especially if it's not the right kind of home."

"You were in foster care?"

"For years. I'm glad that Amy has settled in so well here."

"She really has. In fact, Peter and I are working through the paperwork so that we can legally adopt her. It can take up to a year to process, so by then, she'll be more then ready"

"Really?"

"Really. She gets on well with our other children and she's happy."

"That is the main thing"

Amy came dashing back downstairs, her face flushed.

"No one else wants to come, they're all scared of my bees. Come on Sara, we have to go before it gets dark and they all go to sleep."

Amy grabbed Sara's hand and dragged her out the door and into the backyard. She grabbed the tall flower that sat next to the back step, along with a little shovel that sat beside it.

"You have to be quiet ok Sara? They don't like noise."

The hive was tucked deep in the garden in an old tree stump, the only hint was the steady humming of sound that made the garden come alive. Sara watched as Amy carefully dug the hole, not making it too deep or too shallow, before taking the plant expertly from the pot and sticking it neatly into the ground and filling it with soil.

"Who taught you how to plant things?"

"Fiona. She let me help her plant the vege patch as well. We'll have carrots and lettuces soon. She said they always taste better when you grow them yourself."

Sara followed Amy a little further into the garden until they were directly in front of the bee hive.

"I come here sometimes to think. It can get very noisy in the house."

"How many kids live here with you?"

"Seven. I would hate to live in a hive though, there's thousands of them that live in there."

Amy pointed to the hive, watching it wearing a serene little smile. She was happy, she had a sparkle in her eye and she looked like a normal child again. Sara spent a wonderful afternoon watching bees and feeding the ducks and geese in the back pond, almost recapturing her own childhood as Amy discovered her own.

* * *

Catherine stood next to Greg as they watched Savannah farewell her family before she hopped into the car with Dr. Scott and drove away, headed to her new life as nothing more then a lab rat. Catherine almost felt sorry for her and if it wasn't for the image of Emmanuel that kept flashing up, she would have. Greg had moved from her side and was chatting to Natalie, no doubt apologizing for her unfair arrest and mistaken identity as Emmanuel's killer. Isaac Cooper came to sit beside her, his hands in his pockets.

"Thank you for this Miss Willows."

"For what Mr. Cooper?"

"For getting her the help that Savannah needs."

Catherine turned to him, her face pulled into a frown.

"You do realize that if I had my way, your eldest daughter would have spent the rest of her life in prison for what she did to her son?"

"Yes I do. I appreciate that you went out of your way to make this as easy as

possible on her"

"I didn't go out of my way. I followed the law, unlike yourself"

Isaac sighed and looked at the fast setting sun that signaled the end of the day.

"I can never expect you to understand why I did it Miss Willows."

"You're quite right there. If I had the power, I would hold you just as responsible for killing those other children. She took a dozen lives, made another dozen terribly ill and you are not held accountable for what you did."

"I paid for the family's silence. I understand that but I had to protect my daughter"

"You traded one for the other and you know it. You almost let Natalie take the fall for what Savannah did. What I want to know, would you have let her go to jail for her sister?"

"No."

"Oh so you would have paid more people off, keep them quite and slip Natalie away?"

"No Miss Willows. I would not let Natalie suffer for Savannah's actions."

"Well it's too late for that now. Natalie lost her job because of her arrest."

"I got her job back. She's back on track with her life"

"Apart from the fact that she has to live with the stigma of being a suspected killer. She'll never escape that."

"Natalie is fine. She loves Savannah and knows that what she has is the thing to hate, not Savannah herself."

"You know that just because she claims to have Munchausen's, it does not mean she actually has it, right?"

"She has it. She can't help what she does."

"Then why did you stand back and let her have a child?"

"I thought that Emmanuel would help the situation. You know, make a difference because it's her own child."

"But it didn't and she killed him. She killed her own son and you stood by and let it happen"

"Miss Willows there is no need-"

"Yes there is Mr. Cooper. People like you are the reason that the justice system does not work. I hate people like you Mr. Cooper. You think that just because you have money you can get away with so much more. You may not have hurt any of those children, but you still had a hand in killing them. I hope that you're happy Mr. Cooper, you killed your only grandson and destroyed a couple of dozen families along the way"

Catherine pushed herself off the ledge and moved away from Mr. Cooper and any other protests that he had. She didn't want to hear them, she didn't need to hear them. She accepted that there were people in the world that could buy themselves out of situations, hell her own father was one of them, but there was no way that she would ever condone it. Natalie moved away from Greg and linked her arm through her fathers as they walked away from the lab. Catherine stood beside Greg and watched them leave.

"It's not right Catherine. What he did was not right"

"I know Greg. There is nothing we can do. None of the people who he paid off were willing to come forward and testify to what he did. We have nothing on him."

"It sucks. It's meant to feel good when you close a case, you're meant to feel that justice got served and that the bad guy is going away for what he did. But Isaac Cooper will keep paying his way out, avoiding the law by bribing others"

"And one day he will slip up. You know that we don't catch the bad guy all the time the first time round but we'll be there when he slips."

"Promise?"

"I swear that I will keep watching him until the day I retire."

Greg gave her a wide smile as he inched away from her.

"Won't be too long then"

Catherine reached out and smacked him on the arm, returning his smile.

"Watch it you cheeky bugger. Just for that comment, you can buy me dinner"

"Where are we going?"

"The most expensive place I can find."

They shared a laugh as they headed back into the lab to get their coats. For now, the night was quiet and the team could act like normal people with normal lives and even normal jobs. But when the sun rose again, the normality would end and they would be front row center to see the nastier side of humanity. It was what they did, it was what they chose to do. Making the world a better place bit by bit, crime scene by crime scene, criminal by criminal. Maybe one day they would be out of the job but until that day came, they would be like superheroes, only without the stupid capes, their super powers located in the small silver cases that went with them everywhere.


End file.
